Cast Seeds
by kyokki
Summary: Tenchi has chosen, and one remains to deal with the subsequent heartache. She finds though, in the form of a mysterious, and very injured, young man cast across the stars that perhaps she's not so alone.
1. Shallow Earth

Disclaimer: Tenchi Muyo Ryo-Ohki is the property of AIC Pioneer. I make nothing, nor do I wish to make any financial gains through the publishing of this work of fanfiction.   
  
  
  
Cast Seeds  
  
  
  
Section One: Shallow Earth  
  
The traveler yawned as his ship ate up the stars before him. At first this had been almost exciting, a short trip and back in a purloined vehicle, going where no one had gone before, eating stale rations. He picked at the brick of 'food' on his console as he watched the endless landscape drift by. The brick had gotten even denser, if possible, from its original condition when he had boarded his little ship more than two years before.   
  
He had fondly named her It'kar when he had taken off, but now he had other, less savory names for her, words often uttered in the loneliness of the craft. The thing was, when he had 'borrowed' the ship, he had only rudimentary knowledge of how it worked. Thankfully it had not needed any major repair, but still he lived in anticipation of that moment, when he may be cut adrift.  
  
Also, he thought he had done something to the ship, she sometimes moved so fast she seemed to jump the stars, other times they moved slower than a Retu. He also lived in anticipation, though of a different sort, for these moments. He wondered what he would see after the next jump. He wondered WHEN he would make the next jump, It'kar was nothing if not unpredictable.   
  
He stood, tossing back his braided mane of steel gray hair, hair that shifted color as it moved, much like the changing shades of abalone nacre. The man stretched as much as he could in the cramped control room. He turned and tapped a button on one of the boards, he had discovered this was a sort of 'black box' but he decided to put it to better use.  
  
  
  
:Journal, day 72:  
  
It's yet another day of monotony. I don't think I've ever gone this long without a jump before. Its days like this that I wonder why I ever decided to get on this ship and see what was out here. So far, I've seen stars, stars and more stars. Not a planet in sight. If I set this course, it was the worst mistake of my life, second only to boarding this ship in the first place. Though for all I know, as I've said before, the ship itself decided where to go, and also for all I know, it's taking the most boring route to the edge of the universe.   
  
He sat down, bending his arms behind his head. I wish something new would happen. I wish I could know I'd done right by leaving it all behind...by leaving them to peace. But I'll never know I suppose, I suppose that is my fate. His face, angular and pale, turned towards the front viewing panel, his visible eye, silver in color and sheen, sober, the other was covered in a thick lock of hair that concealed half his face. He reached out and touched the button again, turning off the recording.   
  
He had had two years to rehash what he had seen while returning from his short jaunt around the moon and back, the longest journey he had planned. Then he had seen he could never return. He had turned the ship and headed off to parts unknown, punching buttons blindly, not caring if the ship took him off into space, or into one of the two scarlet suns. It had turned out to be the former, obviously. He wondered if the other option might not have been the best one, sometimes.   
  
Now, he no longer even tried to touch the controls. Why bother? He had nowhere to go, wherever the ship was heading had to be better than what he had left behind. War, destruction, death, and, at long last, peace of the people. It had come unexpectedly, and it had come in a manner that ensured peace, forever and to eternity. The man raised his fist to his lips then touched it to his heart. He just hadn't expected the planet would blow up. He stood again, and the ship jumped.   
  
...  
  
  
  
Ayeka Jurai knelt in her garden, calmly pruning one of the many flourishing rosebushes that stood in neat rows along the stone path that ran adjacent to the house. If there was one thing that the Juraians excelled at, it was gardening, for obvious reasons. She found comfort in turning the soil, in planting things and seeing them grow from seedling to tree, or bush or flower. Under her hands the garden became a thing of beauty, after having been left to its own devices for so long. The princess stood and brushed the soil from the front of her apron, placing her spade back into one of the capacious pockets. She turned and squinted at the sun, shading her eyes with one delicate hand.   
  
Ayeka sighed softly as she turned to the garden shed, taking off her apron and hanging it on one of the hooks. Noboyuki had built this little shed just for her. It was lovely, especially with the climbing roses decorating the wooden walls.   
  
She had rarely had time for working by herself when she was on Jurai. There she always had too many duties to fulfill, too many people around her at all times to be able to just go and weed or pick flowers she had carefully cultivated in order to brighten the cool walls of the royal palace. Here, her flowers graced nearly every room. They were laid fresh every day even on the family graves. All the inhabitants were grateful, even if some never said so, for her contributions, and she was glad to be of use, even if it was just providing flowers.  
  
It was difficult for her to do anything recently. She constantly had to force herself to breath in and out, to get out of bed and face the day. She had to constantly remind herself to smile, to try and laugh, to lift her chopsticks to her mouth, chew and swallow.  
  
As she picked up the broad-brimmed straw hat that lay upon the bench attached to the shady side of her little shed, she once more considered leaving, going back to Jurai as her father wished. Her only reasons not to were Sasami's happiness and her neat little garden. She wondered if those were really good enough reasons to endure the continual heart-break of remaining.   
  
She brushed off her hands as she walked off towards the house.  
  
...  
  
"Good timing, big sister!" Sasami called out when Ayeka opened the door, removed her shoes and stepped inside. The elder princess shot a small smile at her little sister, who seemed to be growing up so quickly. At the age of 716, she appeared to a sixteen year old teenager teetering at the very brink of graceful womanhood.   
  
The Juraians were a long-lived people, their life-spans could be lengthened indefinitely by the tree-life-water. However, they aged normally, practically as a normal human up to a certain point. Then at the approximate age of eighteen they began to slow in the aging process, and gained the years at a near crawl. This state could continue practically for thousands of years. Ayeka, though now at the biological age of 728, still looked, and felt, twenty years old. She would remain this way for a very long time. She knew that, given her young age, even if she abstained from the water, she would still live out the Juraian's normal life-span. Which, in the case of the nobility, was even longer than the average Juraian.  
  
Ayeka moved quietly, and with the elegance her little sister was on the brink of possessing, helping the contentedly humming younger princess by placing the food on the dishes and setting them up on the table. She had little doubt that her brother and his new wife were awake up at the shrine, although they had not come down yet, even given the early hour.  
  
Ayeka's hands stilled momentarily, the plate she was holding hovering uncertainly over the table. He chest suddenly tightened, bringing her to temporary immobility. She still had trouble pretending that her brother's lies had not hurt as much as they actually had. First he had hidden his identity from her, then his youth. She wasn't exactly sure which hurt more.   
  
When he had known without doubt that he had fallen in love with the woman he had made his wife he had dropped the disguise. But not for Ayeka, not for Ayeka. Kyokki was a nice woman, kind, warm and accepting. She was a little strange, but then Ayeka was used to strange people.   
  
Almost immediately after she thought of them, her brother and his bride entered the house, exchanging greetings with her and Sasami, who called out hello to them from the kitchen. Ayeka hurriedly forced her hands back into motion as her sister-in-law moved to assist her. Kyokki always seemed to be smiling, and her eyes seemed especially kind when she looked at the purple-tressed princess. It was as though she knew the pain in Ayeka's heart and wished she could ease it.   
  
Her brother, the princess thought, knew how she felt and in return felt guilt for it. It almost made her feel a little better. But his method of dealing with her pain was completely different from the ways of his bride. He avoided his sister, perhaps to give her space and give her time to recover, perhaps in shame from the hurt she could not keep from her face.   
  
But, as they sat, the emptiness of the table showed the evidence of a hurt so deep that even her brother's deception could not even hope to reach it. The space where Mihoshi would normally sit was empty, but that was not unusual. After having been assigned a new partner, a young Kellian man named Aidar, she spent more time out actually patrolling than ever before. Ayeka privately suspected that the blonde GP officer was more than fond of her new partner, whose unconscious grace, a characteristic of the people of his planet, unthinkingly averted the worst of Mihoshi's incidents. Ayeka thought they were good for each other, especially since the cost of house repairs had dropped since Aidar had arrived.  
  
But by lingering on those thoughts, she was only trying to distract herself from the other empty spaces. Noboyuki was in Tokyo for an architectural confab for a few weeks, something he was very excited about. Ayeka had noticed him, several times, asking Sasami if he could examine their luggage. Her little sister would accede cheerfully, and when he asked if he could see pictures of Jurai, and any blueprints they had on records, they would give them over, witnessing him poring over them long into the night, a look of delight and fascination on his face.   
  
He had let her see the results of his studies, the designs he had done before he left, laying them out pridefully for her to see. Tears had started in her eyes at the sight of the beautiful renderings, combinations of Earthen and Juraian architecture. It was moving, the way his face lit up as he pointed out a particularly shapely curve.   
  
The elder princess had declared them perfect and absolutely amazing, endured his impulsive embrace, then left calmly, only waiting until the door had closed behind her before racing to her room and throwing herself down on her futon, weeping bitterly. She had not been able to stop even when Sasami had entered, exclaiming in alarm, and trying to comfort her sister, but to no avail. Sasami had escaped with her own tears running down her face. Ayeka still did not know where she had gone. At the time, she had not even cared.   
  
It was the next morning before she could bring herself to descend the stairs, only doing so because she wanted to wish Noboyuki well and see him off. And she was composed enough that none but Sasami could have known that she had spent the entire night weeping as though her heart had shattered.   
  
They began to eat, those few who were left, in an atmosphere so decidedly different from what it had been that there was no doubt that all there could feel it. Ayeka still tried to avoid looking at the two abandoned seats beside her. She had refused to move after they had gone, trying to prove they hadn't really hurt her by their actions. She knew it was a futile gesture, but she refused to sacrifice any more of her dignity by letting her emotions show.   
  
She finished quickly and stood, making her apologies to the three concerned faces looking up at her. She escaped slowly, walking past Washu's lab on her way outside. The little scientist had vanished recently, saying something about paying a visit to her old stomping grounds at the Science Academy. Her door had been locked in such a way that if it were opened, all one would find would be a dusty old broom closet.   
  
Ayeka regretted that immensely. At the moment she could use the comfort of her Ryu-oh, now a tall young tree, growing quickly. He was beautiful, and always a great consolation to her. As an alternative she made her way up the long flights of stairs that led to the temple, she did not intend to reach it, however, and instead turned into the woods halfway, then wandered up into the mountains.  
  
She paused at a small clearing with short, flat-topped stakes driven into the ground. She stared at the spot, then moved on, walking ever so slowly. At one point she stooped, plucking a flower from the forest floor, one she did not cultivate in her own garden. Twirling the royal teardrop gently in her hands, she reached her secluded destination, a tiny, rundown shack.   
  
She slowly edged the door open, coughing at the dust that arose from the long-untrodden floor. She looked around, her scarlet eyes unfathomable, at the interior. It looked much the same as it had the last time she had been there, so many years before. The princess swallowed the lump in her throat. She had not been back since that first time, unwilling to violate the beautiful memories she held so close from that single afternoon. But they had broken her and left her. Now there was no reason to try and preserve the happiness he had given her. To begin to heal, she had to confront the things that had been sacred to her, including that dusty little cabin.   
  
"I don't...want you anymore." She said softly, directing her words to the floor. "I don't need you anymore." She said more forcefully, throwing the bloom onto the hard packed dirt before turning and slamming the door to her memories.  
  
  
  
...  
  
"GAAH! Se's miruo'ka, kii serhe!" He bellowed as he tumbled across the cabin, bashing his head against one of the doors. He sat up groggily, and touched the tender spot, startled to find blood on his fingers. Shaking his head carefully, he got up in slow increments, and made his way back to his seat.   
  
He felt nauseated. The jumps sometimes did that to him, but this was the first time he had flown head-first into a wall. The traveler swallowed uncertainly, wiping his bloodied hand on the fabric of his dark shirt. He really should have gotten a bandage, the blood was now running into his eyes, soaking his hair and causing it to stick to his forehead. But dizziness prevented him from even rising. His arms felt heavy. It would be ironic, he thought, if he had come all this way, the last of his race, to succumb to a bump on the head. He wondered if more damage had been done than he thought.  
  
He swallowed again, raising his eyes to the view-screen before him, to the stars that rushed past with unbelievable speed. The last thing he saw before darkness overtook him, was a small blue star, rapidly coming closer, emerging from the blackness and quickly growing before him into a radiant blue ball. A planet. And from the way things looked, one with which he was on a collision course.   
  
It was pretty, he thought as it further filled the view. It reminded him of home, of what home should have been. A few tears ran down his cheeks before the blue light of Earth grew dark in his eyes.  
  
  
  
...  
  
Ayeka looked up, letting the light of the sun wash over her. It was a lovely day, as it often was in Okayama, and the wispy clouds did nothing to diminish the sweetness of the sunlight. She stood on a quiet hilltop overlooking the valley. The early summer wind brushed across her kimono and her dark purple tresses, shifting them softly.   
  
She loved this planet. She loved the gentle rains of the spring, the blankets of snow in the winter, the changing colors of the autumn. And she loved... She shook her head, angry with herself. She had put that behind her, her mourning flowers on the grave of the buried memories. And yet she could not stop herself from feeling the betrayal and the anger beneath it. How dare they do this to her! Her fist thumped against one of her legs. How dare that Pirate steal her Tenchi!   
  
She sank to the ground as she realized the error of that thought. He hadn't been stolen, he had gone willingly, choosing Ryoko over herself. It wasn't fair, she thought bitterly. She had even gotten to like the pirate over the years. She wouldn't have minded sharing Tenchi with her. But it was not to be. So now she felt betrayed, not only by Tenchi, but by Ryoko, whom she had thought was her friend.   
  
Her mouth clamped in a hard line. But the one thing she would never, ever do would be to let them know it. She would be cool, she would be aloof. She would be the princess she was brought up to be. She would hold the hurt inside until it was gone. It was the only thing she could think of to do.   
  
The elder princess forced her legs to stand, it took enormous effort just to do that simple task. Suddenly she stopped, her head swiveling to look at the sky. What was that? She whirled, her eyes searching. Something was coming, and quickly. Was it Ryo-Ohki? No, she didn't think so, it didn't feel like Ryo-Ohki. Besides, they would not have been back so soon. It had only been a week since their small, private ceremony and their immediate trip to the stars. Finally her eyes picked out a small, rapidly moving light, like a comet.   
  
She began to walk, then run, plotting the trajectory of the rapidly growing point of light. It was one of the skills that were taught to Jurai royalty. It seemed to be heading straight towards the mountains. Not much of a surprise, Ayeka thought, all things falling from the sky seemed to land at the Masaki residence.   
  
She met her brother and his bride when she was halfway down the steps, they fell in with her as they raced down into the valley.  
  
"Do you know what it is?" Ayeka panted.  
  
"Distress, great distress." Kyokki answered briefly. Ayeka gave her an odd look, but did not ask how the woman had known that, or what she had meant. She eyed her new sister-in-law surreptitiously as they moved quickly along, the woman was slim, but not skinny, with pale skin, red hair that fell almost to her ankles and blue eyes that looked to be carved of sapphire. However she felt of her brother, she had to note that he had a beautiful, if unusual, wife.  
  
"All I know is we must get there quickly, whether it be friend of foe," Yosho added a few moments later, grimacing as he darted along beside the two women. The ground shook with impact under their running feet, and a huge ball of scorched earth erupted to show the landing site of whatever it was that had landed.   
  
"I wonder if they even survived." Ayeka said, staring wide-eyed at the spot they approached.  
  
Yosho glanced at Kyokki, who nodded slightly.  
  
"You're empathic." Ayeka said suddenly, her words ringing truth.  
  
Kyokki looked at the princess for a second, nearly stumbling at her inattention to where she was going, and Yosho grabbed her elbow to steady her. "Yes." She said simply. "But this is not the time or place to discuss that." She continued. Turning her gaze from Ayeka, she continued swiftly on, slightly outdistancing her companions. Ayeka shared a glance with her brother, who had his bokken out and held at ready, and then they moved carefully down the side of the crater.   
  
Kyokki was already at the bottom, using the long sleeves of her blouse to shield her hands from the heated metal as she tried to work open the bent hatch. Yosho quickly handed Ayeka his bokken and moved to help her.  
  
It was a small ship, nestled like a large, cracked egg at the bottom of the crater. It had been a sleek craft once, she supposed, but its nose had cracked off and lay half-buried in the dirt. The passenger compartment was crushed along one side, and bright orange liquid seeped into the ground beside it. Ayeka guessed that that was the fuel.   
  
"Ayeka!" Yosho called urgently, "Can you make it back to the house quickly and get some first aid equipment prepared? I don't know if it'll do much good but without Washu we don't have many options!" He and Kyokki were working a long, limp, bundle out of the wreckage. "Quickly, sister! Please!"  
  
Ayeka nodded and tore off towards the house.  
  
When she had disappeared over the rise, Yosho shared a long look with his wife, whose face looked bleak. "It doesn't look good," he said softly, trying not to joggle the delicate burden in his arms. "But we'll try."   
  
Kyokki looked at him, "Do you think I should...?" She bit her lip, and he could feel her sadness as she gently smoothed the sticky hair of the traveler away from his bruised brow. He had suffered various other lacerations, some more serious that others, and bruises liberally decorated his swollen face. Several bones seemed to be broken, though his arms seemed miraculously unscathed. In other words, he looked like someone who had just been pulled out of a crashed spaceship.   
  
"What can you do?" Yosho asked curiously, as he laid the man on the ground, carefully arranging his limbs so he might easier carry him back to the house.   
  
"Very little." She admitted softy, "but maybe enough to allow him to recover on his own, or until Washu returns."  
  
"You best do it, then." Yosho commented, "Whoever he is, he still deserves a chance."  
  
Kyokki nodded and motioned Yosho to move back a bit, then knelt beside the man and laid her hands on his chest. Yosho could see nothing being done, but could see the results of whatever she was doing. The man's chest moved much more easily, and his bruises faded slightly. Finally she sat back with a gasp and her husband quickly embraced her shoulders. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes, fine. I'm fine, dearest." She stood, brushing off her pants. She caressed his cheek with her hand. "Now, we'd better get him down to the house. He's not in immediate danger, but he still has a long way to go." Yosho left briefly to slap together a stretcher while Kyokki ripped some strips of material from her sleeves and used them to bind the worst of his wounds. Then, when he returned, they carefully lifted him onto the conveyance and began to make their slow trek down to the house.  
  
Ayeka and Kyokki sat by the man's bedside in the grayness of early morning. They had sent Sasami to bed a few hours before, where the little princess had quickly fallen asleep. She was a kind soul and was extremely worried about their injured guest. She had made a broth, and after they determined that his body could digest it, they managed to get him to take a bit.   
  
The older women had only managed to get the little princess out of the room long enough to undress him and tend to his wounds, Yosho assisting them with the setting of his broken leg. He had screamed then, nearly regaining consciousness, his eyes flying open in a flash of shocked silver before he fainted. There had been nothing in those silver eyes but pain though. And Ayeka felt moved to compassion for the man who lay uncomfortably on the thick pallets, breathing heavily.  
  
"Will he live?" Ayeka asked in a sad whisper.  
  
"I hope so," Kyokki returned, just as quietly, "We've done all we can do, unfortunately."  
  
"But couldn't we take him to the hospital?" Ayeka protested. "Maybe if we shave his hair..."  
  
"I'm sorry Ayeka, but who knows what they may do if they find the differences, whatever they may be besides the hair." She paused, gently brushing a lock of hair away with her fingers, watching the colors shift. "Besides, there is no way we can hide these."   
  
Ayeka looked at the long, pointed ears soberly, and nodded. There was no way any sane human doctor would mistake those for human ears. They looked more like the ears on the pictures of the elves she had seen in some of Noboyuki's mangas. One had a small nick cut out of it, but luckily the cartilage was unbroken. They were nice, and probably useful, but they precluded any chance that he could get medical care at an earthen hospital.   
  
"Perhaps if Yosho can get a hold of one of his contacts in the government..." Kyokki trailed off. "I think they may have a physician in the alliance." Ayeka nodded, and moved closer to the prostrate man, lifting the bandages that covered his stomach, concerned at the constant seepage of blood, bright red blood.   
  
"I wonder if they could be related to us," She mused softly, "I've never seen anyone quite like this man, but maybe in one of the more obscure sections of the galaxy." She talked as she replaced the bandages on his stomach, further concerned at the way his ribs protruded on his desiccated frame. "He looks half-starved."  
  
"You think he may have been running from something?" Kyokki asked cautiously as she handed Ayeka a bowl of steaming water into which the princess dipped a towel to sponge off his face.   
  
Just then Sasami approached cautiously, rubbing her eyes, stepping softly on the boards. She spoke softly, so as not to wake up their patient. "How is he?" She whispered.   
  
Ayeka straightened, putting the soiled towel back into the bowl and taking it from Kyokki. The two women exchanged a long look, then Ayeka nodded. She took her sister's hand and walked her into the kitchen. Once there she put the cloth in a plastic bag to be carefully cleaned later. She washed her hands, closing her eyes and thinking. "Sasami," She said finally, turning to her little sister. "It's going to be a hard time for him. We don't know how long he will take to heal, or even if he will." Sasami sniffled, and Ayeka moved to her, hugging her close. "I'm just telling you this so you will be able to prepare yourself if worse comes to worse." She put her hand under the blue-haired princess' chin and lifted until she met her eyes. "But cheer up Sasami!" She said as brightly as she could. "Kyokki says he is getting better, and I believe her."   
  
"Okay, big sister." Sasami smiled bravely and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I guess I'll start breakfast, then." With that she moved away from her sister, picking up an apron and donning it, immediately going into the familiar actions of her favorite activity.  
  
The traveler, on the outside, was completely dead to the world. But inside his mind, though unaware of his surroundings and his current situation, he was wide awake, and very confused. He was standing on the pulpit stone that had been near his home, a large pillar of rock that thrust itself out of the river water. It was almost completely upright, but had plenty of handholds and footholds eroded into the sides to make it fairly simple to scale. The top was flat, and just large enough to accommodate about two people.   
  
The world revolved around him as he stood there, but it was not his world as he remembered it. This version was soft and fresh in blue and green, the breeze was clean and gentle as it tousled his hair, the water was still and clear, and the twin red suns burned steadily, not muted by a constant haze. There was no smell of burning, no razed hills, nothing but unspoiled nature.   
  
This had been the dream, and he was not unaware that he was dreaming, for this view was impossible. The dream itself was no longer possible. The world revolved slowly around him, and as it revolved he was suddenly aware of presences surrounding him. They were still as the world turned beneath them and he circled within them.  
  
"So sad." Whispered a voice like the soft sigh of the wind. And the speaker came into view, what appeared to be an ethereal young man, with hair the color of the sky, from dusk to dawn. "So sad." The young man repeated.   
  
"Such loss." Came the next voice as the next figure came into view. Her soft words held the feel of softly glowing embers. Her hair glowed in the same color as the suns, and her eyes were like the sky at noon. "Such loss." She revolved out of his view.   
  
"Unavoidable." Rumbled a voice as deep and rich as the earth. And the next figure came into his sight. He had the form of a middle aged man, his hair and skin colored like the rich earth and his eyes green as grass. "Unavoidable."  
  
Then came the last, another woman. "But still..." He voice was like water running over smooth stones. Her hair was like a stream flowing down her back. "Their peace was harsh." She continued. And the other three seemed to nod.   
  
Tei'rn tried not to hyperventilate. Zei'zon, Ky'oi, Son'ar, and Zu'nmi. The god of wind, the goddess of fire, the god of earth, and the goddess of water. He had known of them since his youth, and his teachings from the priests and priestesses in the temples. Their pictures were surprisingly accurate, since none claimed that they had ever seen them. The deities of his faith were standing on the air surrounding him.   
  
Zu'nmi glanced at him, though the other three seemed to be unaware of his presence. Tei'rn gasped at the sadness in her eyes. Then the others were gone, and only Zu'nmi remained. She stepped onto the pulpit and faced Tei'rn as the scenery revolved around them.   
  
Is this real? He asked quietly, awed.  
  
This place no longer exists but in your own heart and mind. She answered, her eyes, the delicate pink of the inside of a conch shell, surveyed the land. She blinked slowly and the landscape disappeared. They still stood upon the stone, but the beauty of his home has become a field of rubble in the blackness of space. Only the two red suns and the stars remained the same.   
  
Then I dream of fanciful things. He sighed, surveying the wreckage. He closed his eyes to block out the vision. When they opened, the scenery had changed yet again. The surroundings were completely unfamiliar to him. He and the goddess were standing on a huge hill, looking down into a valley. At the bottom was a lake, and a building, next to the building was a garden, much like the one he had carefully cultivated before the end. So he recognized that much, but all the structures and plants that he saw were strange to him. And instead of two scarlet suns, there was only one big yellow one giving its light to the soil.  
  
Is this a dream too? Tei'rn asked Zu'nmi.   
  
No, this is real. She smiled. I have hopes that you will like this place, Tei'rn. It was the first time she had used his name. She swept her arm around. Here you can live, you can have some of the peace you dreamed of.   
  
I will live here? He asked, his eyes silver and wide. They will accept me? A few tears leaked down his face.  
  
Acceptance, She murmured, touching his face gently. The goddess began to fade away. Perhaps even love. She vanished with the chime of dropping water.  
  
Love? He whispered incredulously.  
  
Tsunami reappeared beneath the shading branches of the Funaho tree. That had been difficult, she hoped she had been successful in keeping it from Sasami, sometimes the strength of their link surprised even her. She winced as a blare of sound met her ears, and only her ears, and murmured, "I was so careful, too." She sighed, and vanished again.  
  
"He's been talking in his sleep, but nothing that I can recognize." Kyokki told Ayeka as she prepared herself to leave. "You should have no trouble with him, though."  
  
The elder princess nodded, taking a chair near where the injured traveler lay, his battered body pillowed as much as possible.   
  
Kyokki nodded too, "Try to keep him from moving too much. I would not go but this is perfectly necessary."  
  
Ayeka nodded again, holding back the curiosity that rose in her breast. Sasami had gone to take a nap and she and Kyokki had been keeping watch, Ayeka sewing and Kyokki reading one of Noboyuki's mangas. She chuckled occasionally, turning the pages rapidly. Suddenly she had stopped, her eyes focusing on the middle distance somewhere above Ayeka's head. After a moment she lowered her gaze again, glancing at their injured traveler, then looking at Ayeka, her face serious. She had asked Ayeka to look after things for a while, and now she was ready to go.   
  
The red-haired woman trotted out the door, and Ayeka followed a moment later, intending to call out a farewell. But when she stepped out the door, her sister-in-law had vanished.   
  
Ayeka turned back, her brow furrowing, returning to her watch over the traveler. The elder princess sat again, taking up her sewing into her lap and beginning to work again at the scarlet rose she was embroidering on the dark violet background. She took her time, her delicate fingers making the tiny stitches with quick, sure movements.  
  
He climbed down off of the mountainside, wandering through the landscape of his mind. Finally he stood in the valley, walking around the silver lake and approaching the building. The flowers in the garden gave off a lovely aroma, even in his dream image.  
  
Tei'rn moved further, walking around the building. It was very unlike the smooth-walled, solid structures he used to live in. The man peeped in one of the windows, cautiously. Inside he saw a young woman, her head bent over her lap, her dark hair falling forward. She glanced up and he caught a glimpse of scarlet eyes. He blinked, tugging on the end of his braid, absently. He put a hand on the glass, then gave a yelp as his body followed after it, falling into the structure.   
  
He popped up, his face startled. The woman seemed not to have noticed his presence. He cleared his throat, not wishing to startle her. She still did not look up. He walked over to stand before her and waved a hand in front of her face. Peace? He said questioningly. He made a face as his actions still elicited no reaction, and turned, tapping his foot. It was then that he saw the figure lying on a pile of soft bedding.  
  
It was he, his hair, peace forbid, unbound and falling around his shoulders. His face was colored with bruises and gashed in several places. He was still except for the rise and fall of his chest, but the mounds beneath the blankets hinted at more injuries out of sight.   
  
Tei'rn tentatively reached out and touched his comatose self's shoulder and all went black.  
  
Ayeka dropped her embroidery, standing quickly as the traveler sat up with a gasp, his eyes open and searching. Almost immediately, however, he sank back again, groaning. His eyes stayed open, though, silver and wide. She touched her headpiece, reassuring herself that it was still there, and cautiously approached him. His eyes fastened on her and he spoke, calmly for all his nervous eye-rolling.   
  
"Ke'kwa sei?" He asked. "Jeu'sei?"  
  
She shook her head in confusion. The language he was using was completely unfamiliar to her, and she knew at least a few words in quite a few languages from her realm. "I'm sorry, I do not understand."  
  
He peered at her, and she could tell he understood her no better than she did him. He repeated, more slowly this time. "Jeu'sei?" He pointed at her, then he pointed to himself, "Sei Tei'rn."  
  
"Saturn?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head, pointing at himself again. "Tei'rn."   
  
"Tern." She said, and he nodded enthusiastically, even though her pronunciation was quite different than his own slur. He pointed at her again. "I'm Ayeka." She said, touching her own chest.  
  
"Im'ai'ka." He repeated.  
  
"Ayeka," she said again.  
  
"Ai'ka." He said, smiling as she nodded. He had a nice smile, she noted, in his pale, gaunt face. He cautiously moved his hands, seeming relieved to find them undamaged, and to Ayeka's surprise, he reached to gather his hair in a bundle and quickly wove it into a plait. "Ly'atri, biser ten Ai'ka?" He tugged at the end of his braid, which his hand grasped closely to keep it from falling loose.  
  
"Your hair...?" She thought a moment. "Ah." She turned to her sewing kit and pulled out a length of scarlet thread, handing it to him. He smiled his thanks and quickly used it to bind the plait, sighing in obvious relief. While he was doing this she reached onto the covered tray that had sat by her side, picking up a cup. When his hands dropped, his energy sapped from even this small task, she held it to him, her eyebrows raised inquiringly.   
  
He eyed the cup with longing, but had used up his strength with the binding of his hair, that simple task leaving his arms heavy and useless. Ai'ka seemed to notice this and she moved to help him sit up, holding the cup to his lips as he drank eagerly.   
  
What bliss it was! He had never tasted anything so sweet and heavenly. It spread a warmth throughout his entire body. He nodded at the cup as Ai'ka turned to fill it again. What is it? He asked, trying to convey his question with small heavy gestures.   
  
Ai'ka pursed her lips, trying to decipher his meaning, finally her eyes lit up, and she said "Tea." Indicating the liquid in the cup.   
  
"Tea." He repeated. Thank you, Ai'ka. He murmured as she once again helped him to drink, enough strength returning to his arms to allow him to reach up and cover her hands with his, trying to help himself drink. She let him, but moved her hands away quickly as soon as he was finished, reaching for a bowl. What is it? He asked again, and this time she did not have to decipher the meaning.  
  
"Rice porridge." She said distinctly, lifting the spoon to his lips.   
  
Yet another moment of bliss came to Tei'rn, as she helped to feed him. Though he was uncomfortable with being fed like an infant, he could not deny that he did not have the strength to do it himself. The porridge was sweet and warm and soft, and it filled his stomach like it had not been in so long. They continued like this for a while, and every time he took a rest between swallows he pointed out something on the tray and asked what it was, repeating the words Ai'ka gave him as though they were the holy scriptures he had had to memorize what seemed like so long ago. Then, his stomach full and his spirit light, Tei'rn fell into the deep realm of dreamless, healing sleep.   
  
They met in their usual place, somewhere nowhere, and yet everywhere, someplace between, though between what few could say. Perhaps it was between truth and fantasy, or between dreams and consciousness. They didn't really care exactly where it was, only that it was a place that they could go and be assured that none would find them, or be able to overhear. This was a place where reality could be bent, and so bend it they did.   
  
Son'ar was the first there, as was proper since he was the one who had called this meeting of spirits. Zei'zon was the next arrive, his long hair fluttering in the windlessness of the other plain. He looked at his cousin inquiringly, with his night-dark eyes, but he would not speak until the others arrived, that was the tradition. Ky'oi arrived a few moments after the wind god, her look ironic. She sat in mid-air, her feet crossed at the ankles, and looked impatient, but she too, even as the most hot-tempered of the four, would hold her peace. Finally Zu'nmi arrived, and the other three stared at her, the only one who did not look a little upset was Ky'oi. Zu'nmi herself looked a little nervous.   
  
"Something that should not be here has set foot upon the soil of this place." Son'ar said deeply.  
  
"I have felt my wind pass around it." Zei'zon said airily. "But I knew not what it was."  
  
Ky'oi remained silent.  
  
"I could not let them perish to the last seed." Zu'nmi protested, "Only after one other did my heart hold closely this planet and those people who now are as dust." Her eyes filled with tears and Son'ar groaned silently.   
  
She always did this, her tears could solve arguments that even the best negotiators would despair of. Zei'zon laughed breathily, and turned to his earthen cousin. "why do you object so strenuously?" He asked, his eyes wise. "Surely a single seed cannot disturb the balance of the world it has landed on. Not a seed such as this one."   
  
"I object not to his survival, but would merely question my cousin on why she felt such a need for secrecy." Son'ar said with narrowed eyes. Ky'oi watched the three with serious eyes, and Son'ar noticed her silence. "What says my fiery cousin on this matter?"  
  
Ky'oi stayed silent a moment longer, marshalling her thoughts. "I see nothing wrong with allowing this man to remain and thrive." She said finally.  
  
Zei'zon looked at her narrowly. "You have softened since you entered the mortal realm."  
  
Son'ar snorted. "I think it has more to do with that young shrine keeper than anything else. Whatever possessed you to marry him?"  
  
Ky'oi frowned. "The choice was not a simple one of logic, it was one of the heart."  
  
"Always passionate." Zei'zon spoke again, "I suppose I should not have been surprised." His tone was amused. "But we have gotten off the topic."  
  
Zu'nmi had been looking relieved at this interruption, and now her voice was calmer. "I am glad to have my cousin's support on this matter." Ky'oi acknowledged this with a brief nod of her head. "There may be that he has another part to play than just surviving, and I have high hopes that caring for him will be a salve to Ayeka's battered spirit."  
  
"Or more?" Ky'oi asked in amusement. "I recall this one when he was a boy, he was very promising." She glanced at Zei'zon. "Particularly with the playing of the winds, wasn't he, cousin?"   
  
"Ah, yes," The wind-god said softly, "It is he. I remember now. I would often linger when he played, and his song was one to make the soul weep with sorrow and cry for joy at the same time."  
  
"The instrument survived." Ky'oi said significantly.   
  
"I am glad." Zei'zon breathed.  
  
Son'ar looked disgruntled. "I see I am outnumbered." The rest nodded. "Then he shall be nourished."  
  
Kyokki turned from where she was overlooking the sleeping patient to where Ayeka had fallen asleep on the couch, her head pillowed on her arms. The hour was very early, and Kyokki was tired. She had trouble getting used to the limitations of a mortal form. It was merely the matter that her spirit was split, one part, her physical form, was here, on earth, the rest of her, most of her powers and much of her supernatural awareness were elsewhere, looking over those other places that were in her charge.   
  
She went over to check on Tei'rn, feeling his cool forehead with one slim hand. He had no fever, and his color was better. It would still take him long to heal, though. She noticed the tray of empty dishes and smiled as she took it to the kitchen. So, he had woken briefly. And there were no ill affects that she could see, other than Ayeka's tiredness. She wondered how the young seed would fare in this unfamiliar environment. At least the soil by which he would be nourished was not hostile. She was relieved that Sonnar had decided to throw his support behind the nourishment of the young man. Otherwise he would have had even more difficulties than he was now facing. At least he would be able to eat whatever he wished.   
  
And Zeishon would wish to hear the music again, she was sure of that. She longed for it as well. Recalling the days he had lingered by a small fire, playing. The boy was quite an artist, she thought as she washed the soiled dishes, yawning occasionally. She was still unsure of Tsunami's motives, they were as obscure as always.   
  
She yawned again as she placed the clean dishes in the cabinet. She had never had to sleep before, but she was tired. The errant and always passionate goddess moved back into the living room and, taking a bit of unoccupied couch, she curled up and gave in to slumber.  
  
Sasami awoke just as the first birds were beginning their morning serenades. She had to blink a few times to make sure of where she was this morning. She had had another vivid dream, not a frightening one, but still, it made her nervous. She had been in the company of three other people, and they were speaking to her, but their words were silence. It was as though she could no longer hear at all when she had this dream. And also she was in a strange place, a place that seemed to be nowhere, and yet everywhere at the same time. She could see other realities flash in and out around the others as they spoke their silent words, but always they were there and gone in half the space of a heartbeat.   
  
She was not unused to these sort of things, as her body and her mind aged, and as she became closer to realizing her merging with Tsunami, she more and more shared these bits of the goddess's consciousness. Perhaps the goddess was preparing her for the time when their minds would be one. Sasami had the feeling that it would not be much longer. She really didn't mind, it was almost natural to her. The biggest fear she had had was Ayeka's censure when she had told her that she was not her real sister. But now she was sure of her love, of all of their love. Now she accepted what had been given to her, her life, and also the sharing that came with it.   
  
Sasami sat up and yawned, stretching. She stood, unbinding her long hair as she walked over to the mirror. She looked at herself for a long moment, seeing the face of the goddess, though a bit younger, looking back at her. Soon would be the time for her to shed the hairstyle of a child and assume that of a woman. She pulled the long mane of blue hair back, turning her head this way and that. It would look nice, she decided, as she bound her hair into her pigtails, when the time came.   
  
She made sure to tread lightly, as she made her way down the stairs after getting dressed. She did not wish to disturb the delicate health of the man who had crashed in the mountains. A seed. She paused in mid-step, now, where did that thought come from? She shook her head, and continued on her way. Sasami could see three figures in the living room when she reached it, one was Ayeka, lying on her stomach on one bit of couch, a blanket tucked around her. On another bit was Kyokki, curled with her head resting on one arm. And on the floor, in the soft nest they had made him so as not to further aggravate his injuries, was the traveler. His eyes were watching her, a bit of bright silver in a thin and pale face.   
  
"Good morning," She said quietly, making sure not to wake the others. His eyes followed her as she came closer.  
  
"Se'ra Isun." He replied just as softly.  
  
"Did you sleep well?" She asked.  
  
He considered. "Ki're saimon, cha soht beir'sed. Intotset'ioll camn." He replied.  
  
She smiled understandingly, her hand resting briefly on his forehead, finding it cool. "It will grow better, I'm sure." She told him brightly. "By the way, my name is Sasami."  
  
"Cho, Za'za'mi, sei Tei'rn." He told her, his hand brushing his chest.  
  
"I'm very pleased to meet you Tei'rn," Sasami smiled, her inflection and pronunciation of his name perfect. "I'm going to go make breakfast now, you need to eat if you're going to get stronger." And then she moved off into the kitchen, and he closed his eyes tiredly. Neither wondered at the strange way they could understand each other. Neither found it unnatural at all, and neither would think to comment on it.   
  
Kyokki looked at the man for another brief moment before she again closed her eyes.   
  
It was not much longer before Yosho returned, bringing with him a physician who could be trusted to keep things to himself from their alliance. The man looked over the traveler, his brow furrowed. Yosho sat next to his sleeping wife, watching. Finally the doctor turned to the priest.   
  
"In most ways he is human, as far as I can tell." He said, packing his instruments in the bag. Behind him Tei'rn watched, his eyes glazed with pain from the rigors of the examination. "You have done well in his care without me, I commend you. He should heal well." He handed Yosho two bottles before he stood and turned towards the door. "Give him a teaspoon of this one every eight hours, it is a pain reliever. Dose him with a tablespoon twice a day with the antibiotic." While he spoke, he wrote the instructions on the bottles' respective labels. "I am cautious to give him anything else. I'll be back in about six weeks to take the cast off his leg." Yosho nodded and saw him out.   
  
When he came back, breakfast was served and Kyokki and Ayeka roused, still yawning sleepily. And all along Tei'rn watched them from his nest of blankets, his voice silent and his eyes wide. While the rest sat at the table, Ayeka went into the kitchen and took the tray that Sasami had made for their patient. Tern was his name, she reminded herself. She returned and knelt beside him, laying the tray across his lap and helping him to sit. She took a spoonful of the porridge and held it out to his mouth, but stopped, startled, when he laid his hand on her arm.  
  
"Ai'ka." He said softly. "Spoon...food, Tei'rn." He struggled to find the words with his minimal vocabulary. "Tei'rn...food, Tei'rn."   
  
Ayeka's eyes, which had been confused, brightened in understanding. "You want to feed yourself." She stated. He nodded, not that he knew exactly what she was saying, but he saw that she understood. She handed him the spoon and left briefly, retuning with her own tray.   
  
As he carefully lifted the spoon to his mouth he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was watching him carefully as well, ready to assist should he exhaust his limited strength. But then, his spoon paused, as something on her tray caught his eye. "Kist'ry," He whispered. Ayeka looked at him. He set his spoon down, lifting a trembling hand to touch the rosebud on her tray.  
  
"Rose." She said, as his fingers gently felt the velvety-soft petals. And he dutifully repeated after her, a wonder in his eyes. Ayeka considered, then moved the small vase which held the bloom to his tray. "Tern, eat."  
  
He glanced at her, then once again picked up his spoon, eating as carefully as before, but it seemed he could not keep his eyes off of the flower. Ayeka was startled at this reaction, it was almost as though the tiny blossom were the most precious of gems. After a while, Tei'rn discovered the sugar bowl, and she watched in astonishment as he devoured the white crystals voraciously. She glanced over her shoulder at her family, and they too, were watching with raised eyebrows. Kyokki shrugged, and they all finished their breakfasts.  
  
Tei'rn settled back, satiated. The rest of the food had been delightful, but that stuff that Ai'ka had named 'sugar' had filled him like nothing else. He already felt stronger. He watched the people of the house as they moved around him. There was Za'za'mi, Ai'ka, Ko'ki, and Yo'zo. He smiled as his eyes drifted shut. It felt more like home than home had.   
  
Several weeks had passed, and Tei'rn was finally able to move around a bit, leaning on Yosho's shoulder, or using a long staff of bamboo. He was learning the language slowly but surely. He had never been very good at languages.   
  
On the first trip outside he had haltingly asked to be taken to his ship, and Kyokki had been the one to guide him there. She had helped him down the side of the crater, and watched as he moved cautiously around the wreckage. He had been dressed in one of Yosho's shrine outfits as they were around the same height and build.   
  
Kyokki observed as he poked his hand into the passenger cabin, and his hand emerged holding something which he tucked inside his robes as he turned back to her. "Thank you, Ko'ki." He said. Patting the spot he had carefully put the item. "Tei'rn feared for safe."   
  
She nodded. "I wonder why we didn't find it before, though."  
  
Tei'rn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Wind protect, peace of wind." He made a gesture, kissing his fist then touching it to his heart. He made that gesture often, usually when he said cho, which he felt had much the same meaning as peace. "Peace that hands no hurt." He said. "Tei'rn play...soon."  
  
Kyokki hoped she had kept the excitement out of her eyes. A few moments after, Ayeka had rushed up, out of breath, and scolded her sister-in-law for taking him out so far.  
  
During the time he had been there, Ayeka had been his primary caregiver. She took the responsibility very seriously, and tended him gently. She still found peculiar, though, his penchant for putting sugar on everything he ate. But it was only a small strangeness. Other than that, he seemed to take to the life well, and with a nobility that sometimes gave her pause. She wondered what he had been in his past life. But for all her diffident questions he had gently refused to speak of it, merely making that gesture of fist to lips, then heart, each time she asked.   
  
It was lucky that Ayeka had shown up, really. Tei'rn had been exhausted by his efforts, and he slumped between the two women the entire way back, though he made the effort to walk on his own. His silver eyes showed weariness, both at his own weakness and at the short journey he had undertaken to retrieve the item that only he and Kyokki knew the value of.   
  
Kyokki left them after they had settled the man on the couch, and Ayeka fetched him a cup of tea. He did not recognize her, thankfully. She had been cautious with him for a while, but not a single glimmer of recognition entered his eyes when he saw her. She made her way up the steps of the shrine, her brow furrowed.   
  
Tei'rn was quiet, and Ayeka wondered what was on his mind. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved around. She entered the kitchen to wash their cups and when she returned to the living room, he had vanished. She looked around, her eyes wild. "Tern?" She asked. Where had he gone?  
  
Tei'rn settled in among the flowers, inhaling their scent, and removed the small bundle he had tucked into his shirt. He carefully unwrapped it, spilling the precious contents into his hand. He held it before his eyes, examining it closely. It was a slender cylinder, made of wood, that most precious of materials of the planet of his birth. There were several valves and levers that were closely carved into it. That was all there was to it, but appearances can be deceiving.   
  
The man closed his eyes and held the cylinder in his slender hands, and it began to sing. It was a song of the wind, gentle, quiet, with a depth that one could hear, but could never fathom. It soared out from his hands, which moved gently on the surface. He raised the cylinder to his lips and it sang in many voices, of the wind, of the earth, the sky, the fire of the sun and the water. It rang with the notes his breath gave to it, telling a story without words, of hopes and dreams calling across the stars, it wept of the loss of faith, it sighed at the loss of all. Then the cylinder sang of hopes shattered, leaving only one sliver of light. Finally it sang of new hope, a gentle song of a new dream. The song died away, and Tei'rn opened his eyes.   
  
They stood there before him, Ko'ki, Za'za'mi, Yo'zo and Ai'ka. He smiled gently and lay the instrument, its song now a quiet murmur, on his lap. Ko'ki had tears running down her face, and Ai'ka and Za'za'mi looked close to weeping themselves. Yo'zo sat beside Tei'rn, his face set. "What was that song?" He asked quietly.  
  
Tei'rn looked at Ai'ka. "Answer to question could not be word." He said. And she understood.   
  
End of Section One. 


	2. Along the Path

I do not own Tenchi Muyo. If I did, OVA 3 would be drastically different.  
  
Cast Seeds  
  
Section 2: Along the Path  
  
  
  
Ayeka's thoughts seldom strayed far from the strange young man that fate had dropped into her life. She watched him, and made sure he ate, helped him to wherever he needed to go. She even assisted him in bathing in the early days of the healing process, there was the small bathroom in the house, of course, but it was too enclosed for two people to be in it at once. He had been in such wonder of the splendors of the onsen, he hadn't been as embarrassed as she was sure he would have been otherwise. She herself could only remember a handful of times that she had blushed so hard or so rosily. When he noticed her red face he had looked concerned and brushed her cheek with his hand, then looked more alarmed when, impossible as it seemed, her color deepened even further.  
  
He seemed to have realized her discomfort and made his trips to the onsen on his own now, albeit slowly and painfully. But he never said that her welfare was his foremost concern the first time he went alone, he didn't think it needed to be said. It would have been simpler, now that he was on his own, to bathe in the house, but the onsen was a wonder he couldn't seem to get enough of.  
  
His body had begun to fill out since then, and he asked her, in the halting, hesitant way in which he spoke, if she might be able to repair his clothing. He had no skill with the needle.   
  
Ayeka looked up from where she was looking over the stained, torn material. And then she changed what she was going to say when she saw the look on his face. It was as though she held in her hands one of the last remnants of his past. She almost felt honored at the trust that he continually showed in her and her abilities.   
  
"I think it can be mended." She said finally, hiding the clothes in her lap. "It will take a while though." She felt something solid and larger than a fastening as she rolled the coat up tighter, and she unfurled it a bit. There, on the breast of the jacket was a pin that was almost, but not quite circular. Into it was subtly carved in relief the figure of what looked like a sinuous dragon. The material from which it was made was glossy and shifted color, much the same as did Tei'rn's hair. The single eye was set with a blue gem. "What is this, Tern?" She asked, and looked up at the man who was suddenly stiffening as he sat across from her.   
  
Tei'rn's face, always a bit pale, was now as white as the winter snows. His eyes were far away, seeing what, on this planet, no one else had ever seen. He saw the day that that badge had been awarded to him. All of their people had gathered at the broad staircase that led down from the large, solid palace where he and his family lived. He had been standing, in his dark uniform of the royal family, his chest thrown out proudly, and his long cloak whipping back in the forceful wind. He had been young then, oh so young and innocent. His father, an older, more solid version of himself, had stepped forward, his face solemn, but his violet eyes pleased. His brothers stood behind him, watching as their father pinned the crest, carved from a scale of a great wyrm, onto his cloak, holding the flowing material away from his heart.   
  
His father had held his fist to his lips then touched his son's heart, right below the scale. Tei'rn had returned the gesture, fist to lips then to his father's heart.   
  
His father had had a wonderful, giving heart, so kind, so strong. He had just not been strong enough to prevent what had happened. He had clasped his son's shoulders then turned him towards the viewing throng. A cheer had been raised, and more salutes had been given, to his brothers and to the people. He saw his sister standing at the other end of the pavilion, and she had smiled at him, though even smiles could not dispel the sadness in her eyes.  
  
He had not been the one who would rule, oh, no, not he. He was instead recognized for his insight and learning, and for the most special of all gifts. Tei'rn could play the wind.   
  
Peace for the people! He had cried. They had roared in response. "Cho! Hit'ri Chandir ki'sarha!"  
  
"Tern? Tern?" Ai'ka was looking at him in concern, and he managed to smile. He was aware that his face was wet, but could not bring himself to wipe away the tears shed in mourning for the loss of his people. Then he found he could not stop the flood once it had started. He remembered his brothers, his single sister, his nieces, his nephews, his father, and his mother who had died so long ago. All the people whom he had loved. His shoulders heaved, and he sobbed, covering his face with his long, pale hands.   
  
He could feel arms around him, warm and comforting. And he clung to the source of those arms, weeping like a broken child. He reached out blindly, and took the clothing to his chest, still feeling those comforting arms around him. "Tei'rn sorry, Ai'ka. Cho, hit'ri...Chandir...ki'sarha. Kih'sar bindi...Nostire'a..." It was the first time he had allowed himself to really weep, to feel the gargantuan loss. "Cho, vit'ari cho." He sobbed.  
  
Ayeka held him, murmuring comfortingly as he wept and spoke in the tongue she could not begin to understand. She rocked him gently as his tears gradually stopped coursing down his face. She used a corner of her apron to dry his eyes.   
  
"Tei'rn feel like child." He murmured in an ashamed whisper, after he had cried till it seemed as though there were no tears left. He pulled away from her, his eyes downcast.  
  
"There is no shame in weeping." Ayeka told him gently. "I wish you knew the language well enough to tell me what happened. But I know that it must have been a loss beyond all that I have known." She knew this for true the moment she said it. It had to have been something worse than her loss of Yosho, and her loss of Tenchi.  
  
"Ai'ka." She looked down at him at the sound of her name on his lips. He stared up at her with haunted red-rimmed steel-gray eyes. "Tei'rn...planet. Planet gone." He made an expressive gesture with his hands.  
  
Ayeka's hands flew to her mouth to hold in her gasp of horror.   
  
"Cho." He said sadly, fist to lips, then heart.  
  
A few hours later, Tei'rn was back to his usual, gentle, quiet self. Ayeka took him out with her, for he liked to sit and play his strange instrument among the flowers as she worked. This day, like the one before, and the one before that, after a while Ayeka stopped working and came to sit before him. As the soft song faded away, Ayeka asked what he had been playing.   
  
His brow furrowed as he searched for the words. "A song of...child sleep."  
  
"A lullaby." She supplied.  
  
"Lullaby." He repeated carefully. The instrument, now not in conscious use, but still in contact with his flesh, hummed tunelessly. "Ai'ka," he said after a few moments. "You like...hold?" He held the instrument out to her.   
  
"Really?" She asked.  
  
"Yes," He replied, smiling. "Here," He placed it in her hands. "Hold...here, here."   
  
His fingers were soft on hers. She could feel it softly humming, but heard nothing. She looked at him questioningly. "Hold end...mouth." She did so, and a single, true note rang forth, fading in and out, but keeping its tone. "A'tok, very good." He smiled. "Is Ai'ka's...cho'sa...note."  
  
Ayeka moved her hands slightly as she and Tei'rn sat among the flowers. It was what she had seen him do when he played the songs that seemed impossible to generate from the simple instrument. But only that one note sang out, fading and growing. "Tern, why does it play only one note?"   
  
"Ah," He replied, pondering over his words. "Tei'rn only one make sing. All other make one note." He raised his hands, expressing his inability to make any more sense with his limited language skills. "Tei'rn..." He took the instrument back, and it began to sing quietly, he tapped a small lever and the note it had played in Ayeka's hands toned again, this time strong and sure, "make song, Ai'ka song." He said quietly, his soft, deep voice making a harmony to the key of Ayeka's song yet unborn.  
  
"I think," She replied hesitantly, "that I would like that."  
  
...  
  
She would never hear him as he composed her song, taking great care and precision to make every note right. But she knew he worked on it constantly by the way he changed what he was doing every time she walked into the room, looking up at her with an abashed smile. They would take long walks together, he leaning on his bamboo pole as she named the flora and fauna for him.   
  
Kyokki and Yosho would watch the two, their expressions mixed.   
  
"Is it wise," Yosho asked, half to himself, as he and his wife sat on the broad deck, watching Ayeka and Tei'rn walk around the coast. "to allow them to become so attached to one another?"   
  
"Do you disapprove?" Kyokki asked with a wry smile.  
  
"I do not," He replied, stroking an errant lock of hair from her forehead. "I only worry about my father. We have been able to find nothing out about this young man, and it becomes increasingly difficult to keep his presence within our small circle."  
  
"What is it they need to know?" Her tone was disapproving. "He is a gentle young man who has recently been through a terrible trauma. Will they not accept him because his race and parentage are unknown?"  
  
Yosho looked away, his dark violet eyes troubled. "It is a possibility." When he looked back at her Kyokki could see an ancient hurt in his eyes. "Juraians can be despicably prejudiced." He frowned.  
  
She reached out and embraced him, "I will see if I can find out anything that may help." She said gently.   
  
"More mysterious comings and goings?" He commented half-teasingly.  
  
"I cannot share what I may not." She said, averting her eyes. "I wish I could, really."   
  
"I know," He said, kissing her forehead.  
  
"So, what do you think?" She asked, changing tacts.  
  
"About them?" She nodded. He watched them. Ayeka had moderated her pace, walking slowly so that Tei'rn did not have to strain his healing muscles to keep up. He said something, and she answered back with a small laugh. Yosho smiled at his wife. "I think that, his landing here may have been the best thing to happen to Ayeka in a long time. And he, well, time will tell."  
  
Tei'rn would hold long conversations with Sasami as Ayeka sat working on the task that she had taken on. The mending was coming along slowly but surely, but she was glad the material was dark, for the worst of the stains were barely noticeable. She had taken off the pin and given it to Tei'rn. He looked at it for a long moment when she had placed it in his hands, then he gave her a peculiar smile and tucked it in his sleeve.   
  
Ayeka's little sister seemed to have no trouble communicating with Tei'rn, though he spoke in his native tongue and she in hers. Ayeka did not find it unusual. Her little sister was very unusual. Sasami spoke to Tei'rn as though he were an old friend, chatting with him as she brought in clean bandages and water for tending his injuries.  
  
Ayeka would always put down her mending and shoo her little sister out of the room whenever she had to change the man's bandages. He would never wince or cry out as she cleaned his wounds, he would merely look at her, the tenseness of his eyes the only giveaway of the pain she knew he must have been suffering. Sometimes when she left the room she would shed a few tears on the bandages in her arms.  
  
She wished that Washu would return. She knew Washu, more than she, could ease his suffering. Every day Ayeka would pause to knock on the door under the stairs. But it remained dim and unresponsive. She would merely set her face and move on with whatever she was doing.  
  
She liked him very much, and his hurting hurt her. It was strange, how his gentle ways and quiet smile had given him a place in her heart. Although they looked nothing alike, he kind of reminded her of Tenchi. That was also strange, how he had helped to crowd the loss of Tenchi out of her thoughts. Now she was too busy with helping him and spending time with him, reading to him and listening to him make the winds sing, to dwell too much on her grief. The pain was not so intense now, perhaps because it paled so much in comparison with Tei'rn's.   
  
Her hands stilled as she thought on his words, halting, broken. "'Planet...gone.'" It was a thought almost inconceivable to her. The one time she had thought it possible was when Ryoko had breached Jurai's defenses and had embarked on her reign of destruction.   
  
But...her world, her people, all gone? How could such a thing have happened to Tei'rn? And how had he survived? She could not ask him, and would not. She would wait until he told her. She respected him enough to know that he would tell her eventually, but the wound still seemed too fresh. She shook her head, listening with half an ear as Sasami attempted to teach the young man chess, continuing with her needlework.   
  
The next morning after breakfast, as they had fallen into the habit of doing, Tei'rn accompanied Ai'ka into the garden and sat on a tuft of soft grass while she worked around him. He tried to help as much as he could in these times. He could not do the physical labor, not yet, but he absorbed her actions as she worked, seeing how she planted and pruned, storing it away.   
  
Instead he played the winds so that they blew more gently around this garden, leaving the petals longer on the blooms, coaxing the mists to linger just long enough. It was a function of the instrument, and also one of the reasons that he had such a highly respected position in his country. When peace had been restored, he would have been the one to help the winds back onto their natural paths and make the planet flourish again. He had lost that. So now he sat and used his gifts on the little garden and watched Ai'ka.  
  
She was so gentle, he thought, in her every move and word. Sasami had told him of her sometimes fiery temper but he had yet to see it. She reminded him of his sister, though the two of them looked nothing alike. His sister had been one of the youngest of his family of seven, being ten years of age when Tei'rn had been born and their mother had died. She had been gentle and thoughtful, encouraging Tei'rn to take the path he felt chosen for him, the path not of the warrior.   
  
Oh, Tei'rn had been through the training, and had been accounted quite good by his teachers, but they had always felt there was something lacking in him, he had not a fighting spirit, not one in the way of the sword, anyways. He hated sparring and fighting, he, whose purpose was to heal, had often been reduced to frustrated sadness at the futility of their never-ending wars and the training that only served as a constant reminder to the nearly impossible task that awaited him, if, that is, they could stop the destruction long enough for him to try. He would confide his fears to his sister and she had been the one to comfort him.   
  
She had married at the age of twenty-seven, when Tei'rn was accounted to be a man, an early marriage in the minds of their people. And her choice had been surprising. Tei'rn had always felt that she would marry a doctor or an artist, someone with a gentle mindset and soft hands. But she had chosen for herself a soldier, hard-faced and taciturn. Tei'rn had been knocked for a loop. But then...he hadn't been sure what it was at the time, but there was something in their eyes when they looked at one another, something deep and unfathomable. He knew now that it had been love, a deep love, one that he had never known, or had thought to know.   
  
The happiness of his sister and her soldier husband was not to last long, though, for only a year after their marriage, the tenuous cease-fire had been breached and the whole of the world fell into war. Her husband had been called to the field. She had been very quiet during that time, the only thing that could bring a smile to her face had been a certain song Tei'rn would play for her. It was a lullaby she had taught him, which she had, in turn, been taught by their mother. She would give him the little smile he longed to see on her lips, but the darkness never left her eyes.   
  
He knew now that she had known, even before the heartbreaking news had darkened their house again. She knew that their love would not last, her love for her soldier and his for her. Her clear violet eyes had a way of seeing things, things she could not, or would not share with any other. She had seen the moment of his death. She had heard her name in his dying breath. She had known in her soul that she would not be long in following him.   
  
The last time Tei'rn had spoken to her she had said something odd. She had said in her quiet, lost, way as he had held her hand, "You alone have a future, my hig'nu. The rest of us are lost in the darkness, you have a light waiting for you. Go to it. Go to it and do not get lost in what had to happen, do not be like me, my hig'nu." Her pet name for him meant tiny seed, but one that grows where nothing else can.   
  
It was strange, he thought, as he spilled forth a trill of gleeful notes for Ai'ka's benefit, seeing her turn and give him a small smile. When he had first come here he had seen a look much like the one in his sister's eyes in Ai'ka's. But now, the shadow was there less and less. Ai'ka came and sat before him, in what was his favorite part of the day, and he felt tenderness welling in his heart as she sat near to him and listened as he played his mother's, his sister's lullaby for her.   
  
More days passed as his strength returned. He would always bear the scars of his experience, though, both internal and external. One fine, cool day he was sitting on the deck of the house, watching Sasami as she looked up into the skies.   
  
"Za'za'mi, what you look for in sky?" He asked curiously, fingering the small triangular scar in his long ear where the cartilage had been cut away. She turned to him, a smile on her face.   
  
"Mihoshi and Aidar are coming back some time today. Which reminds me." She walked over and took his arm, drawing him up from his seated position and propelling him towards the house. "It might be safer to be inside when they come."   
  
"Why that?" He asked. Now feeling a tad bit apprehensive as he looked at the clear blue sky. He had been told of the other inhabitants of the house, but with the exception of Noboyuki, who spent most of his time in the city where he worked, he had yet to meet any of them.  
  
"You'll see." What he could not see was her grimace behind his back. "Her landings always tend to be a bit...explosive."  
  
As he settled on the couch Ayeka entered the room, a neatly folded bundle of clothing in her arms. He looked up at her, seeing the smile on her face. "Ai'ka?"  
  
"I've finished them, Tern." She deposited the bundle in his arms. "As good as new as they can be."   
  
Tei'rn's face showed his excitement. He stood up, much more quickly than he could have when he had given them to her. His gray eyes shone like polished steel. "I put them on?"   
  
"If you would like to." The elder princess replied in a supportive tone. She smiled at his retreating back as he moved quickly out of the room, though the curve of her lips fell slightly at the sight of him limping heavily with the effort of putting weight on the leg which so recently had had the cast removed. She was really looking forward to the sight of him in the clothes from his planet, not that the clothing he had borrowed from her brother did not suit him nicely. Sasami entered the room and took a look around, seeing Ayeka seated patiently on the couch.   
  
"Where did Tei'rn go?" She inquired of her sister.   
  
Ayeka turned around, and her sister had to hide a smile at the happy expression on her face. "I finished mending his clothing. He's going to put it on right now."  
  
"How exciting!" Sasami exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I bet he looks so handsome." She added slyly. Ayeka shrugged, but Sasami noticed she turned quickly around so her sister could not see her expression. She liked Tei'rn very much, and she liked the way he looked tenderly at her elder sister. Ayeka seemed to be oblivious of it, though. She wondered what was going on in her sister's mind lately, she was even harder to read than normal.   
  
It wasn't long before Tei'rn returned. He paused a few moments outside the door leading in from the hall to the living room. He felt strange now that he was back in the clothes he had worn since he was an adolescent. They seemed better than they had been when he wore them in the ship, traveling to the destination which at that time was unknown.   
  
He stood up straight, content that he could now do so with only the smallest twinge of pain from a few of his injuries. They were healing well, in fact, most were already healed, though his leg still gave him trouble. Even the gashes on his face had vanished, where he had been sure that they would scar.   
  
He tossed his head to throw his long braid back over his shoulder and took a few deep breaths. He found himself anticipating Ayeka's reaction. He smiled nervously, hoping she found him handsome. He was no judge of his own appearance, though some had called him so. But all he knew was that Ayeka was beautiful, very beautiful. He wondered if she would be offended if he ever told her that.   
  
He gulped and moved around the doorjamb, the nervous smile still on his face. He was gratified by the look on Ayeka's face, a broad appreciative smile. Sasami clapped her hands and laughed in delight.   
  
"You look so handsome Tei'rn!" She exclaimed.  
  
Ayeka was quiet. She knew what the clothes looked like, but she had never seen him in them but for those few moments when her brother and his wife had taken him from the broken shell of his ship. Now he looked even taller than she remembered, and she doubted the top of her head would reach his shoulder. The dark blue, almost black material had a soft shine to it. The front of his uniform was a solid panel that fastened on the left side of his chest, the short collar was stiff and the long sleeves just brushed the back of his hands. The jacket was fitted to his waist, then was connected to a long cape, lined in red, that was open in the front and swirled around his ankles as he moved. This was over long slacks of the same material as the jacket. His feet were still shod in the sandals that Yosho had given him, his boots had been unsalvageable. He looked almost princely. As he moved towards them, only his heavy limp betrayed that he had ever been through a crash. Sasami was right, he was very handsome.   
  
She stood as he approached, her smile lighting up her face. "They look wonderful on you, really suit you."  
  
"Thank you, Ai'ka." He grinned. "There...one thing..." He reached into a pocket and produced the badge she had given him. "Ai'ka, you would?"  
  
She stepped forward and took it from him, standing close and pinning it where his gesture indicated. She stood close so she could not see the tender look he directed at the top of her head. She stepped back and looked up at him, then was suddenly breathless at the intense look in his silver eyes. She smiled hesitantly, compelled by that calm stare.   
  
"Ai'ka" He murmured, taking her hand gently and kissing it, then holding it to his heart. "Cho."   
  
Ayeka was rendered speechless. She was experiencing feelings she had not had in some time. She heard Sasami try to stifle a giggle behind her and the spell was broken. She looked away, and he released her hand. He was greatly encouraged by her reaction, though.   
  
"Oh, my." The voice came from the doorway. Ayeka turned and saw Mihoshi standing there. The blond detective's hands were pressed to her flaming cheeks and her large blue eyes were wide and shining. She squeaked excitedly, and moved into the room. "I'm so embarrassed!" Ayeka could see Aidar behind her, moving as quietly and gracefully as ever. One could never tell what he was thinking from his pale face surrounded by a long mane of midnight blue hair, drawn conservatively back and tied. She almost could see a small smile playing around his mouth and jumped back from Tei'rn, blushing.   
  
Tei'rn himself looked nervous. He was unused to people other than the small group who lived around the Masaki shrine. He moved slightly behind Ayeka as Sasami ran forward to clasp the blond detective in a hug, then gave Aidar a squeeze, who returned it, again with that small smile playing around the edges of his mouth. He glanced up, first at Mihoshi, then at the other occupants of the room. Aidar didn't talk much.   
  
"Ayeka! Who is this, then? You two seem friendly." Mihoshi supplied for him, herself curious.   
  
Ayeka glanced at Tei'rn, who looked at her nervously. Then he cleared his throat and straightened his back, his face assuming a friendly and almost lordly expression, though not one intended to intimidate. He walked around the purple-haired woman, a smile on his face. "I called Tei'rn." He said.  
  
"I'm Lieutenant Mihoshi," the blond said, snapping a quick salute. "And this is Major Aidar," She indicated the man standing behind her. "You speak strangely, don't you have a translator?"  
  
"Translator?" He inquired, his brow furrowing. "What that?"  
  
"You know, it's a little device that changes your words so they can be understood. It's so you don't have to learn a new language every time you go to a new planet."  
  
"Tei'rn know not."   
  
Ayeka jumped in, "We tried to get one, but we didn't have any, and for some reason we weren't able to get into contact with someone who could get us one."  
  
"Washu isn't back, then?" Aidar said softly.   
  
Mihoshi was staring at Tei'rn still. And Ayeka spoke to her just so she would stop looking at Tei'rn like that, feeling a little jealous. "No, not yet. Come to think of it, you two were gone longer than expected. Did something happen?"   
  
Mihoshi's attention snapped back to the elder princess. "Lieutenant Mihoshi reporting, your highness," She said with another salute, standing at attention. "Lieutenant Mihoshi and her partner Major Aidar were summoned to an uncharted sector of space to investigate some unusual galactic activity. It was discovered that that section of space had contained a planet, C-class, which for reasons unknown suffered a major catastrophe which resulted in its explosion.  
  
"Unfortunately there was not enough of the planet left to make any assumptions as to the circumstances." She relaxed. "That is a summary of the report. Aidar's been helping me with them." She grinned ingenuously, "I never have been good at being brief."   
  
"A planet that had exploded." Ayeka said slowly.  
  
"Yes, evidence suggests it happened approximately eight galactic years ago." Mihoshi supplied. Then she proceeded to give the coordinates.   
  
Ayeka turned to Tei'rn to find him looking at her seriously. "Tern?" She asked. His eyes were sad as he looked at her a brief jerk of his head showing his confirmation of her suspicions.  
  
"Do you know something?" Aidar asked quietly.  
  
"Planet...planet name," He gulped and closed his eyes, turning his face towards the ceiling. "Seta'ka." He opened his eyes, and looked at them, "Seta'ka...Tei'rn home."  
  
...  
  
Later, when Sasami had served them some cookies, and Yosho and Kyokki had come down from the temple, surprised that there had been no explosion to announce the blonde GP officer's arrival, they all settled down, and Tei'rn prepared to tell them all he knew, hoping that his language skills would be sufficient.   
  
Tei'rn took a deep breath, taking one more glance around the expectant faces before launching into his tale.   
  
"I tell from Tei'rn experience. Tei'rn birth year, I do no know how say, is different. Year, three hundreds, eighty-nine day, day fifty and eight hour. Tei'rn live 34 year on planet. Tei'rn spend two year in space."  
  
"So you are really 144 years old by our standards." Yosho said quietly. "Since for us it happened eight years ago." Tei'rn nodded doubtfully.  
  
"How long do your people live?" Kyokki asked.  
  
"Think nine of hundred, ten of hundred. Sometime longer, if not killed. Tei'rn still not old for long time." He smiled sadly. "There big trouble on planet. Happen before Tei'rn...born. Much war, many war. Hurt planet. Make hard to live, little fuel, little food, bad air...hard to find water to drink. That trouble, no water not good...no children, no marry."  
  
"Why would that keep people from getting married?" Ayeka asked curiously.  
  
Inexplicably Tei'rn blushed. "Water need for...date, no, for show of wish to wed. Woman, or man, find water, fresh clean. Unbind, wash other hair, braid for..." He struggled to explain. "Show affection, intention. If other keep hair like left by other...they married." He didn't think he was making himself too clear. It frustrated him. How could he explain the difficulty of obtaining such water, the tenderness with which a woman or man would unbind and wash the hair of the one they loved. How they would wait, scared and hopeful, to see if, after the waiting period, their hair remained as they had left it. If not separated by circumstances beyond their control, they would not bind their own hair ever again once they were wed. It was duty and love with which the married couple would bind each other's hair each morning. It was something beautiful, something lost.  
  
He threw up his hands at his inability to explain, though he hoped that most had gotten the gist of it.   
  
"What about the wars?" Yosho prodded gently. Tei'rn looked at him in silent thanks.  
  
"Finally see that they killing selves. Try to stop. Is stop year Tei'rn born." He paused, "Is why stop. Tei'rn a...hope. Tei'rn wind-player, not had wind-player many many year. Tei'rn family important, make law, rules, try keep peace. Father smart, was...one who try to hold peace...brothers, sister... They see hope. Some begin to look stars, try find new place, not want wait for winds. Build ships, but ships abandoned, never leave ground."   
  
He stopped and took a few deep breaths, fighting down his grief. The others held the questions broiling in their minds, not wanting to distract him from his story. It was difficult enough for him, they understood, to translate his thoughts from his own language.   
  
"Some tire wait, other important. War start when Tei'rn twenty-three. Many life lost, family lost...some, brother, husband of sister. Father, grow old before eyes. Last many year. When Tei'rn has thirty-four year, he get..." he groped for the word, "impulse...to take ship. Short trip. Take off, no problem, around moon, back. Want see planet from above, see what I work to save... Come around moon..." He had to stop then, to try and keep in the tears. "Know not happen. But...Tei'rn could not go back. Got away ahead of...wave. Not know where go, not know what do to ship. Travel long way."  
  
When she saw that Tei'rn was done with his story Mihoshi spoke up. "Do you know what could have caused the explosion?"  
  
He shook his head. "Not know. Maybe weapon of others, go wrong." He bowed his head. "Only glad happened quick, not more suffer." Ayeka laid a hand on his arm and he looked at her gratefully as he covered it with his own. "Only Tei'rn suffer, for planet."  
  
...  
  
Things changed as the season turned. Tei'rn was fascinated by the changing of the leaves and the light dusting of first snow. Ayeka found him that morning, standing outside in his warm coat that she had purchased for him. He was staring up at the sky, a look of child-like wonder in his eyes, watching the tiny flakes drift down.   
  
She smiled at his awe, still amazed after he had told her that there had no longer been seasons on his planet by the time it was destroyed. He knew nothing about winter or spring or autumn. His planet had been in summer, always. She walked over to him, taking his arm with easy familiarity as he covered her fingers with his own. They both stood, staring up at the brooding sky. Though neither ever said anything about it, a sort of affection had arisen between the two, a gentle affection that required no words.  
  
Ayeka was cautious about it, holding back, worried that once again she would not be enough, not have enough within her to be loved. That was the way she thought of it. There had to be something wrong with her, something that made her unlovable. She had no good examples to choose from. The people of her planet had always seen her as cold and distant, as one who would be their future ruler, and therefore untouchable.   
  
Not only that but also her love for Yosho had kept her from forming any other lasting bonds. They knew she was intended to marry the crown prince, sealing the monarchy. But there was also something lacking in that relationship, something she was too young to be aware of at the time. He had loved her, in his way, but it had been no more than a brotherly love, a sad love. He knew that she would never be satisfied with a love like his, she deserved more. Oh, she would never had said anything, and would have loved him in a way that was not returned, but she would not have known the depth of love. Yosho knew that there could be something more, and he had found it, but not in Ayeka.   
  
Ayeka had not known, she had thought that he had loved her in the manner she had loved him, but he had found her lacking in some way. She did not know that he had felt the lack was within himself.   
  
Then there was Tenchi. When she was around him she thought she had finally found what love was. But she had been wrong again. And she had not even known that she had been wrong until the moment that Tenchi and Ryoko had gone. Perhaps he had been trying to spare her feelings by doing it the way he did. Perhaps he had been trying, but that had not made the hurt any less.   
  
And now there was Tei'rn. She glanced up at him, seeing the falling crystals reflected in the polished silver of his eyes. He looked down at her and smiled. And she smiled back up at him for a moment before leading him back inside. She left him in the living room, sitting upon the floor and peering out the window, while she went to make some tea to warm them both up. Sasami came in a few moments later, removing her shoes and shaking the snow off of her hood.  
  
"Good morning, Tei'rn." She said, smiling as she set the package she had carried in on the table. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Yes, Za'za'mi." He said, turning from the window to smile at her. "But I woke up even better. This...snow...is very pretty." He stood, his leg was bothering him a bit more this morning than usual. "It is different, but nice. What was this, season, called, again?"   
  
"It's winter." Sasami told him. "The month of December to be exact." She smiled a secretive smile. "It's a month of celebration."   
  
"Celebration of what?" He asked curiously.   
  
"On the twenty-fifth day of the month, everyone exchanges presents and we eat good food, and put up a tree and decorate the whole house." Her eyes glowed with excitement. "It's my very favorite time of year."   
  
"But I..." He frowned. "Have no to give." He thought about it as Sasami picked her package back up and moved up the stairs. He got up and moved around the room, liking his reacquired freedom of mobility. He owed so much to all the people of this place, not the least of which for his own life. But the one he felt indebted to the most was Ai'ka, for her patience with him, and her care.   
  
He thought, absently brushing his forelock out of his eyes. Finally he straightened, a brilliant smile flashing across his face. He would give Ai'ka her song! He had completed it some time ago, but hadn't found just the right moment to give it to her. Now he just had to figure out what to do for the others.  
  
...  
  
After they had had their tea, Ayeka and Tei'rn headed off on whatever tasks they had to do that day. Tei'rn walked up to the shrine to have his daily chat with Yosho, and, since he had returned, Aidar. Aidar never did say much, but when he did speak, his insights were deep and impressive, even to Tei'rn, who still had troubles with the language. They spoke of his training and of his family, what they, as the rulers of the majority of his planet, had tried to do to stop the fighting, as unsuccessful as it was.   
  
Yosho could see that Tei'rn had been well trained in a variety of subjects. As well as he could tell, with deciphering the young man's halting manner of talking, he had been well grounded in politics and strategy. He could also tell, now that the man was moving around on his own, that there was something in his stance that indicated combat training at some point, though to what level he could not ascertain. He longed to put the young man through his paces and see the style of training that he had received, but he knew that Tei'rn had not fully recovered.   
  
As the priest had gotten to know the young man further he had developed a respect for him. He was impressed by the man's acknowledgement of his own limitations and his striving to correct them. Often he would ask the priest about the culture of the planet on which he had made his home and had listened attentively to his answers. But Yosho knew, first and foremost, that Tei'rn was a man of his native planet, and though their cultures were largely compatible, he would always judge himself by their standards, which appeared to have been quite high.   
  
Tei'rn was also very straightforward with his answers to any questions about his home that Yosho would ask. Yosho understood that he was trying to keep the memory of his home alive, and, as he recounted the answers, he was renewing them for himself as well.   
  
This day their conversation had turned to that of religion. After Yosho had explained to the young man the precepts of Shintoism, he seemed very eager to tell about the faith of the people of his own planet.  
  
The three of them, Tei'rn, Yosho and Aidar, were seated around the table in Yosho's office. Yosho kneeling, Aidar sitting cross-legged and Tei'rn, who, with the cold weather, was feeling some stiffness in the leg that had been broken, had his legs stretched out to the side for comfort, they drank tea with varying degrees of sweetness.   
  
"Beginning in dark, there were some who took the dark and made light and...substance." Tei'rn was saying. "These were 'Those Who Spun.' No names they had but that. From substance they make, 'Those Who Weave.' These are Ones who take other substance and make stars and planets, people, elements. 'Those Who Weave' remain, and 'Those Who Spun' went on to other places to spin more, it is said." He made a small face and took a sip of his extremely sweet tea.   
  
"Those who wove Seta'ka were four. There was Weaver of earth, air, water and fire. Each Weaver had own followers. They build temples and have priests and woman priests. Tei'rn's brother, Mev'ln, very practical, were priest of Earth, Son'ar, his name." He paused again at this, and Yosho assumed he was thinking of his brother, whose name had sounded like nothing more that a slur beginning with 'm'. He glanced at Aidar, who had been listening closely, his eyes piercing. Now the Kellian was looking out the window, a thoughtful look on his face.   
  
"Sonnar was the name of the earth god." Yosho said slowly. "What were the other three?"  
  
"Is lucky," Tei'rn said after a moment, the smile on his face belying the sadness in his silver eyes. "That I explain. Most of my people only know the name of one god, tied to the element of the one Weaver. Tei'rn know all." He scratched at one long, pointed ear with a rueful grimace. "I not ap-appreciate at time, so many things to know and read. The wind-player need to be known to all elements." He sighed and shook his head. "Not just wind. Sister, Kist'ry was child of wind, seer of far off places, and brother Den'n, artist and cheerful. Zei'zon Weaver's name." He had to compose himself, very briefly, but not quickly enough for his distress to escape notice. Yosho thought of recanting his question, but the young man was already going on. "He pale with long blue hair like a ...raincloud and dark blue eyes like sky after the suns set."  
  
"Pel'ln and Ser'da, soldier brothers, both children of Ky'oi. She the weaver of fire, and bravery. They say she temperamental, like element. Bright hair like the red suns and eyes like sky at brightest part of day."  
  
"Kyoie." Yosho mused. For some reason the name and description filled him with an awful sense that he was missing something.   
  
"The last Weaver, Zu'nmi, Gil'rn follow her. Goddess of Water and wisdom. She..." He trailed off at the strange look that crossed Yosho's face.   
  
"Zunami..." he muttered in an equally strange tone of voice. "Tsunami."  
  
"You feel fine?" Tei'rn asked in concern. He glanced at Aidar, and noticed that his dark eyes were narrowed, as though he were seeing something he didn't particularly like. "What I say?"  
  
"Tsunami." Yosho repeated.  
  
"Yes?" Tei'rn asked in confusion.  
  
"She is the goddess of the Juraian empire." He said quietly. "And now I think I know what was behind that impulse of yours."  
  
...  
  
Tei'rn did not go back to the main house right away. He needed to take some time and think, think of what Yosho had said, and the implications of Tei'rn's goddess and his being the same. Yosho's goddess, Ayeka's and Sasami's. He didn't know quite what to make of it all. But the descriptions had matched too closely for it to be a coincidence, her appearance, her elements.   
  
He pondered what he had learned that day as he made his way to the tree that Yosho had said held a piece of Tsunami's spirit. It was a constant wonder to him. The only trees that had remained on his planet, had been the ones that were as stone, old and dead long before many of Tei'rn's ancestors had drawn their first breaths. And this tree... He could, from the first time he had seen it, sense that there was something special about it, something he should know about. Now, as he stood before it, watching the cold breeze ruffle the leaves and whip away the scent of the flowers, he knew why.   
  
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out his strange instrument, caressing the smooth wood carefully and with a contemplative hand. It hummed tunelessly as it always did when he was holding it but not consciously using it. He closed his eyes. Yes, there it was, a reverberation. He had wondered why, while playing near this spot his music had seemed richer, and fuller.   
  
Tei'rn closed his eyes and lifted the instrument to his lips, blowing a questioning note. It echoed back at him, to his surprise, carrying an answer.   
  
"It is a piece of me."   
  
His eyes flew open at the sound of the voice, but there was no one there. "Zu'nmi?"   
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You are a piece of me as well." The voice sighed, seeming to be carried in the wind ruffling the surface of the water. "Many ages ago, the Bifuukoe was carved from one of my many branches. And I am the mother of this tree and many others." The voice in the wind caressed his hair, seeming warmer than it had been a moment before. "It was an attempt, even long before it was needed, to forestall what would happen."  
  
"The destruction of my planet, my PEOPLE!?" Angry words in his native tongue tumbled from his lips.  
  
"I could not save them."  
  
"Then what good is it?" Even though his voice was harsh, he cradled the instrument carefully against his chest.  
  
"I saved you." The voice whispered, then it was silent, and the breeze chilled once again.  
  
Tei'rn was shocked to stillness. He remained that way for a long time before turning and making his way back down to where warmth and voices awaited him, suddenly hungry for company.   
  
...  
  
Another week passed and Tei'rn suddenly found the house a flurry of unfamiliar activity. He thought the ribbons that were suddenly everywhere, in a bright red, were nice enough, but they served no purpose that he could see, and he had to constantly rebuff Sasami's requests that he wear a strange green hat that jingled. Whatever a Christmas elf was, or how adorable she thought he would be wearing the thing, it was a completely ridiculous notion.   
  
He nearly was overcome with horror on the day that they carried a butchered tree in from the outdoors. Ayeka found him, as she was returning with a box of ornaments, gently caressing the green needled branches and making sad little sounds deep in his throat.  
  
After that he regarded the whole preparations for the holiday called Christmas with narrowed and suspicious eyes. Were they going to cut down more trees? What was the purpose of decorating the poor thing, anyway? And the thing that really got him was that they were so ok'run cheerful about the whole activity.  
  
The only bright point, so far as he saw, was that a lot of the dishes that Sasami was preparing contained copious amount of sugar. Things she called cookies, and cakes and puddings. He couldn't stop himself from begging for little tastes from the bowls or spoons. Luckily, Sasami was usually accommodating, even if he refused to wear that silly hat.   
  
Finally, the house was all decorated and the inhabitants, most of them, were seemingly brimming over with what they called 'Christmas Spirit.' The night before the dawn of the day called 'Christmas' they all went to bed at a rather unseemly hour, having enjoyed much early celebration that Tei'rn had enjoyed, though it was somewhat dampened by his still not understanding why the tree had to be cut down.   
  
Tei'rn had prepared his gifts early, he was unused to even such a thing as giving a gift on a specific day. In his culture, when someone wanted to give you something they would do so at any time of any day, sometimes taking great pleasure in doing so at odd hours or inopportune times. His brother Den'n, the joker, had been known for his timing. But he also was generous with his gifts. Den'n had been one of Tei'rn closest kin, and one of his favorite brothers.  
  
As a consequence to his being prepared early, though he could hear with his sensitive ears the sounds of furtive movement in the halls and downstairs from his room, he himself had nothing to do to while away his hours in the darkness. They were keeping him awake, but he couldn't bring himself to complain. They were, after all, his family now.   
  
Thoughts of his new family inevitably brought on thoughts of his kin, of Den'n and Kist'ry, who he thought would enjoy this strange event called a holiday. He thought of serious Pel'n, who would take the whole thing even worse than Tei'rn himself was. Of Ser'da, the great captain general, whom Pel'n has always looked up to. Of Mev'ln and Gil'rn, who took responsibility above all else. And of his father.   
  
Tei'rn sighed and turned on the soft bed, pulling his blankets up around his neck. He missed them. He missed them all, even Mev'ln, whom he had never really gotten along with. He had rarely been overcome with such a feeling of homesickness, but now, with all the strange activities going on, he missed his family around him, missed the familiar smooth walls of his home. He missed the twin red suns that reminded him of Ai'ka's eyes.   
  
Ai'ka's eyes. Tei'rn's feelings of displacement faded at the thought of the woman who had become such a pivotal part of his whole life. As long as he had Ai'ka's eyes, home would not feel quite so lost to him.   
  
As he finally found the realms of slumber, it seemed to him that he heard his sister's voice, 'Yes, my hig'nu. That's the way.'  
  
...  
  
Tei'rn woke bright and early, thanks, for the most part, to Sasami rapping on his door and announcing, "Wake up, it's Christmas!"  
  
He got dressed hurriedly, as haste seemed to be in order, and headed down the stairs to find everyone seated at the table waiting to begin breakfast. He lowered himself down carefully and joined them, deciding that, whatever this holiday might be, to have produced such smiles and glowing faces on those around him, it could not be bad.   
  
Soon enough, breakfast was over and they gathered around the tree. Ayeka had not been oblivious to Tei'rn's mixed feelings concerning the holiday, and had guessed, rightly, that it was just very unfamiliar to him. As a result, she seated herself next to him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently while Sasami played Santa.  
  
Tei'rn turned to her as the first round of presents were passed out. "The tree produces gifts?"  
  
She couldn't help but laugh, but at his expression of confusion she stifled it quickly and squeezed his hand again. "No, we put our presents under the tree last night."  
  
He suddenly looked chagrined and stood quickly. "Tei'rn will be right back." Then he moved up the stairs as quickly as he could.   
  
Ayeka watched him go even as she absentmindedly accepted a brightly wrapped gift from Sasami.   
  
Tei'rn returned a few minutes later, juggling several items in his arms, making his way carefully down the stairs to rejoin them. He settled on the couch next to Ayeka, who still held the gift she had accepted from Sasami, as they had all waited upon his return to begin.   
  
"You did not need to wait." Tei'rn told them with a self-conscious smile.   
  
"Nonsense." Sasami said with a large smile. "We wouldn't think of beginning Christmas without everyone here." She pursed her lips, suddenly silent, and Tei'rn wondered what she was thinking about. Then the grin returned as abruptly as it had left. "I'm so excited!" She looked at the items contained in Tei'rn's arms. "Do you want to go first?"  
  
"I distribute?" He asked, as all those who already had gifts in their hands set them aside and looked on in anticipation and curiosity. Sasami nodded emphatically. "I...yes."  
  
He set the bulk of the items that he had carried on the empty space beside himself, and took out one, holding it outstretched as he stood, approaching Sasami, who had settled on the floor. "In the name and further...ance of peace, which is starts between two and spreads to more, Tei'rn offer this gift to one called Za'za'mi, in goodness of heart and spirit." He held the item out to her, "I did not know to enclose it in paper."  
  
She accepted his offering with a cry of pleasure. He had crafted her gift keeping in mind that she had once expressed her desire for her sister's headpiece. He thought she may have been trying to persuade him to get it for her, but had pretended ignorance. It was similar, if not quite as intricate, to the headband that graced Ayeka's pale forehead. Sasami immediately put it on, running her delicate hands over the smooth, seamless curves.  
  
"It's perfect," She cried rapturously.   
  
"Is small thing." He shrugged. "Brother was better."  
  
"How did you make it?" Kyokki asked curiously.  
  
"Tei'rn used..." He couldn't quite get his mind to accept the name Tsunami had given it, "wind-player, to ask the tree for its gift. I did same for others, earth, and water, wind. Gives of Earth, since Tei'rn had no...money." Noboyuki had offered him some funds to go Christmas shopping, but he had refused politely.  
  
"Amazing." Aidar murmured.  
  
"Yes, very much so." Kyokki agreed.  
  
Tei'rn distributed the rest of his gifts, making the same little speech at the presentation of each. To Yosho and Kyokki he gave matching pendants of a polished golden stone, perfect orbs suspended from cords. Kyokki had a delighted look in her eyes and told him she thought there was something she would find it useful for.  
  
To Mihoshi he gave a bracelet that matched her robin's egg blue eyes, and for Aidar was a clasp to catch his hair at the back of his neck. To Noboyuki he gave a rock to weight down papers, its shape suggested the form of his house. That left him finally facing Ayeka, one more gift in his hands, a tiny ring.   
  
She accepted it gratefully, murmuring over the intricacy of the carvings, which looked like the vines of climbing roses. As with everything he had given, it seemed as though it had been formed by the patience of wind and water rather than human intention. Slipping it on her finger, she examined it, then blushed and moved it to the other hand. Tei'rn wondered why.   
  
"Tei'rn, it's beautiful, I thank you." She smiled, looking up at him. He was still standing, looking down at her with a slightly nervous expression. "Ai'ka...there one more thing, Tei'rn have..." He reached in his shirt.  
  
"We're home!" An unfamiliar voice proclaimed, accompanied by a gust of cold air as the door was opened.   
  
Tei'rn turned, seeking the source of this new voice, and he saw a young man with dark, spiky hair, a woman with hair the color of water standing...no...floating behind him. Could this be the Ten'ki and Ro'ko the others had spoken of?  
  
"We're home for Christmas." The young man said.  
  
Tei'rn turned quickly to Ayeka, who was staring past him at the young man and the floating woman. Her eyes...that look was back, the lost look he had thought was gone for good.  
  
"Ten...chi." 


	3. Rocky Ground

I do not own Tenchi Muyo! If I did, the travesty that is OVA 3 never would have happened.  
  
Rocky Ground  
  
The creature was staring at Tei'rn. He looked up from trying to puzzle out the newspaper that Yosho had left there that morning to find his gaze caught by a pair of large golden eyes. He rustled the paper, preparing to go back to trying to puzzle out the strange characters of Japan, but the gaze would not release him. He found himself sighing and folding the paper, directing all his attention to the small furry creature sitting on the table.  
  
Though it had been a few weeks since the ones named Ro'ko and Ten'ki returned from their trip to the stars, Tei'rn had found little opportunity to get to know them, or the small creature sitting before him, which seemed to have a great attachment to Za'za'mi. He supposed now would be a good time.  
His ear flicked, betraying his interest, and the creature's own ear responded with a twitch of its own. It was cute, he supposed, leaning down further, and it hopped closer, until he felt his eyes crossing at the effort of keeping its gaze. Its name was Ro'oki, he recalled after a moment's thought, and it was female.  
  
He tentatively reached out a hand and lightly touched the short fur on the top of her head, finding it even softer than it looked. He was rewarded with a soft and delighted 'miya'. Encouraged, he continued patting her, moving his hand to the underside of her throat as she offered it to him. He almost jerked his hand back when he felt an odd sort of vibration there, accompanied by a soft rumble. But as nothing further came of it, and she showed no inclination of moving, he assumed that it was a contented sound. It sounded contented, at least, and she hopped closer, closing her eyes, and pressing against his hand with another lazy twitch of her ears.  
  
Tei'rn smiled bemusedly as he felt his own long ears respond.  
  
The soft rumbling sound lulled him, and he found his mind wandering as his long, pale fingers moved to scratch behind the little creature's ears. He often found himself submerged in the memory of his old life in the past few weeks. His silver eyes closed in a slow, deliberate blink, almost as though to dispel the sadness they held.  
  
His thoughts moved, as they did in general, to his sister, the most loved of all of his siblings. She would have adored the creature that now stretched languidly under his hand, offering different places that needed scratching. He smiled slightly, imagining her raptures of delight at anything small and furry. Kist'ry was often bringing small animals, which were quite rare, into the palace, and in most cases her tendency was tolerated, but for one occasion.  
  
Tei'rn recalled it clearly, though he had been very young when the incident had occurred. She had somehow gotten a hold of a small K'tak colt and had smuggled it into her rooms. It had not been long before the smell of the creature had made itself known and had betrayed her indiscretion. On his world, K'tak were food. The round-bodied animals with their short delicate legs and gentle eyes were the main source of meat and were therefore quite valuable in their resource deficient society.  
  
His father had gently but firmly put a stop to it after its scent had become known in the halls surrounding her room. They couldn't afford to keep useless animals, he had said to her as she had cried and pleaded. Tei'rn had listened to the entire exchange from behind the door. He had been only four years old.  
  
Tei'rn knew his father would have given in if he hadn't had a responsibility towards others, which he took very seriously. People starved, and Kit'aks could not be kept in such a useless capacity as serving as a pet, even to the daughter of the leader. The creature had disappeared, and Kist'ry hadn't eaten for days. It had been upsetting for both Tei'rn, who saw her as his mother, and his Father, who hated to make any of them unhappy. But he was the ruler, and sometimes, happiness had to come second.  
  
Tei'rn had helped her care for the colt once or twice, and he had been somewhat sad to see it go. But he admitted to himself now that he hadn't really understood his sister's motives at the time. To him, Kit'ak had been meat, and good meat too. His four year old mind couldn't really follow the transition from living, breathing animal, with its tiny head, round body and short, delicate legs, to Kit'ak roast and the bones that they used as materials for things such as eating utensils. Kist'ry had named it Gom'bi, for the sound it had made.  
  
Now he thought he understood better. She must have been very sad at its loss.  
  
Ryo-ohki yawned cutely, and hopped into his lap. He continued petting her as she curled up and fell asleep.  
  
The time since 'Christmas' had passed had been a time of drastic changes, most of which Tei'rn did not understand at all. The first had been a change in Ai'ka, she had become stiff, distant, not just with him, but with everyone. She seemed not to talk as much, and Tei'rn hadn't seen her smile in many days.  
  
He had moved up to the shrine, in a small room that sat next to Yo'zo's chambers. He hadn't really minded giving up his room to the two returning people, it had been Ten'ki's in the first place, after all. He was, however, feeling a distance awakening between himself and the rest of the residents, with the exception of Ko'ki and Yo'zo. He didn't think it was all to do with the physical parting with the main house so much as with something else.  
  
He didn't really understand what had happened, and no one seemed to want to talk about it. All he had to go on with drawing conclusions was the look in Ai'ka's marvelous eyes. They had hurt her somehow, and he wasn't sure what he could do about that. He had found with some confused alarm that her hurting hurt him, almost physically.  
  
He sighed, his hand still stroking the small furry creature absentmindedly. Aside from Ro'oki, who seemed to like him, he wasn't sure what to think about the newcomers. He wasn't sure what to think about anything anymore it seemed.  
  
There was Ten'ki, who seemed nice in a mild, distant sort of way. Tei'rn really hadn't spoken with him much.  
  
Then there was Ro'ko, who was very strange to him. It was not her coloration, which was common enough on the planet of his birth, it was the strange power she seemed to have. She could move through walls, nearly giving him a heart attack the first time she did it in his presence, and she could fly. Strange indeed. And she had this way of looking at him with an almost speculative air in her feral eyes. She was brash, almost rude, very physical in her arguments and agreements, and she was totally in love with Ten'ki.  
  
Tei'rn could tell now, now that he had experience with the emotion himself. She practically oozed it, hanging over the young man all hours of the day, at meals, at rest. And he returned the feeling wholeheartedly, from what Tei'rn could tell.  
  
But Ai'ka and she didn't seem to get along very well at all. After that first day, when she had claimed a headache and gone to her room, not emerging all day, she and Ro'ko had seemed to have taken up a long-standing custom, or rivalry, he couldn't tell which exactly. And Tei'rn had seen the fantastic temper that Za'za'mi had informed him of.  
  
It was quite spectacular, really. Ai'ka was very strong woman, but not as strong as Ro'ko. He had been a little startled, though, at the visible electricity that had started sparking between the two.  
  
Tei'rn decided he was thinking too much for the moment, and took the little creature in his arms, she was very warm, he noted, standing and gingerly depositing her on a couch cushion.  
  
He stretched, working out the kinks in his back and neck. Other than some small twinges from the injuries caused in the crash he felt perfectly fine, and even healthier - thanks to the rich and plentiful foods - than he had before he had started on his fateful journey. He walked to the door and peered out through the glass. It was a rather nice day; a little cold, but fine with the sunshine and gentle wind. It was just warm enough to have melted the small covering of snow on the ground. This was good.  
  
Tei'rn shrugged on his coat, opened the door and stepped out. He felt like running; today would be a good day to run. He needed to start rebuilding the strength he had lost while in his confined quarters in space, and during his subsequent recovery from the end of the journey. Running would be a good place to start.  
  
Tei'rn, after a moment of thought, bent and slid his feet out of his slippers. Barefoot was best, he reasoned, testing his footing on the deck and finding it sure. He took a few steps, inhaling deeply, then, he ran, leaving his thoughts to trail behind, forgotten for the moment.  
  
Sasami stared into her mirror, considering. The headpiece that Tei'rn had given her lay on the dresser, waiting. It really was quite perfect, and she was impressed that Tei'rn had known her so well in crafting it. It even had a small section that was open, framing the goddess marks on her forehead in a heart shape. The thing she was pondering was her hair. At the moment that was the most important thought she would allow in her mind. Otherwise, she would just get herself upset again.  
  
Pigtails just didn't go with the beauty and sophistication of the piece. When she wore it with her pigtails she looked like a child playing at being a grown-up, wearing her mother's jewelry.  
  
Sasami reached up and slowly undid her pigtails, then she sat at her dressing table and brushed out her hair, very slowly and carefully. When she was done, she found her hands moving automatically, binding her hair in two low tails, just below her shoulders. She admired the effect, and saw Tsunami in her reflection, albeit a younger version.  
  
She sighed, and picked up the headpiece, settling it across her forehead and fastening it securely in her hair. When she looked up again, she was again Sasami. She smiled suddenly, a brilliant, joyous smile.  
  
For now, she was still Sasami.  
  
Ryoko floated above the slush covered ground, watching her husband examine the carrot fields, now fallow for the winter. Her husband. Even now, after almost a year of marriage, that thought still surprised and pleased her to the point of near giddiness. That she was Tenchi's wife now filled her with a joy unsurpassed by any other feeling she had ever known. Their trips through the stars had not diminished it one bit, but rather polished it to mirror brightness.  
  
Tenchi loved her, he had married her, and she was his wife. She couldn't contain the giggle that escaped her lips. Tenchi turned and smiled at her, then made his way back over the muddy furrows to her. She closed the distance by phasing behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck. She thought it endearingly charming the way he still blushed and chuckled nervously whenever she did that.  
  
They started back towards the house, and paused when they saw a silver blur dashing away from it, bounding in long strides over the damp earth.  
  
"Was that...Tern?" Tenchi mused.  
  
"I think so. He's pretty fast." Ryoko commented half-approvingly.  
  
The two of them had been surprised to find the stranger sitting in their living room when they had returned at Christmas. And they had been equally surprised when they heard the story of how he had gotten there. On top of that was the obvious regard in which he held the elder princess.  
  
Ayeka. They had been terrible to her, and they both knew it. They perhaps would not have stayed away as long as they had if they hadn't realized it, almost before they had left the atmosphere of the Earth behind them. At first they had been so deliriously happy that they hadn't spared a thought for her. Selfish and cruel. Then, they didn't know how they would ever be able to make amends for their actions.  
  
There was one obvious way, allow Ayeka to marry Tenchi as well. Ryoko unconsciously tightened her grip on Tenchi's neck. He choked and she quickly loosed it. Ryoko's mouth tightened instead.  
  
Even after their many months away, they hadn't been able to come up with a way to atone that would be acceptable to both parties. So they had shown up, and Ayeka... It was worse than the time they had first all come to live in the same house together, worse because they knew that they were to blame, wholly, for her distress.  
  
Still, Ayeka marrying Tenchi. It was unthinkable, but the problem was convincing Ayeka of that as well.  
  
Tenchi paused at the doors.  
  
"What's the matter?" Ryoko asked.  
  
"Don't you know?" He asked her quietly, caressing her cheek.  
  
She sighed heavily, her golden eyes downcast, "Yes, I know."  
  
They were coming back to the house now, she saw from where she sat at her window, her head resting against the sill. Tenchi and Ryoko were entering the house, removing their shoes, with Ryoko perhaps using Tenchi's shoulder for support. And now she would offer to make him tea, and he would laugh nervously and say he would do it himself. He was so considerate.  
  
They would sit at the breakfast table, waiting for Sasami to finish her cooking. They would lean close to each other, hold each other's hands. They would whisper and laugh about things that only the two of them could share.  
  
Only the two of them.  
  
Unacceptable.  
Time passed, and Yosho could see changes in Tei'rn. He spent very little time down at the main house now, instead trekking restlessly and constantly over the surrounding countryside, often at a near run, or an all out one, which was extremely fast. Sometimes he would leave early in the morning, before the sun even rose, and return late at night, when the stars were very firmly placed in the inky firmament.  
  
Yosho thought he knew the reason why. The reason perhaps didn't. But then, maybe she did at that.  
  
He had witnessed it firsthand a couple of times. She was pushing him away, reinforcing walls that Yosho had thought were crumbling under the onslaught of the creeper vines that were twining around them, all unconsciously planted by the young man with the peculiarly colored hair and gentle ways.  
  
A few days ago, Yosho had been sitting at the table reading the newspaper when he heard Tei'rn ask Ayeka if she wished to take a walk with him. She had sounded delighted to answer yes, and then she asked Tenchi to come along as well. Yosho could almost hear the young man's pale face fall slightly, could see in his mind's eye the disappointment in those silvery eyes.  
  
Before that, he had been walking past the garden with his wife, when he heard Tei'rn start to play, as he customarily did when Ayeka came out to work in the garden. Now that spring had arrived, there was much to do, and he had begun to help out.  
  
He had heard his sister laugh happily as she regarded the first snowdrops poking their heads out from the dark earth. As they had watched and listened, Tei'rn played a gentle, coaxing song and the flowers shyly bloomed before him.  
  
Perhaps Tei'rn hadn't caught the look in Ayeka's eyes in the momentary glance she gave the handsome young man, the wonder. Yosho did, but a moment later it was gone, and Ayeka said she simply MUST show Lord Tenchi the new flowers.  
  
She had left Tei'rn standing alone in the garden, the tiny blooms flourishing almost lovingly around his feet. His eyes shone, too brightly, before he had closed them with a shake of his head. He had turned then, his shoulders stiff, tucking his flute into his shirt as he left the garden behind.  
  
"It hurts to watch this." Kyokki had said, her eyes glistening softly.  
  
He had replied, catching and squeezing her hand. "It's not really a matter that we should involve ourselves in, however we may want to. They have to work it out for themselves."  
  
"But it's hurting him, hurting them both, so much, I can hear it in the music." She wiped the moisture that had accumulated in the corners of her eyes away with her free hand. "It's affecting the music."  
  
Spring was colder for a few days following this incident.  
  
And if this was what was happening when he was around to witness it, Yosho thought bleakly, watching Tei'rn approach the shrine from the porch on his office, he did not wish to imagine what was occurring when he was not present. He would not become involved, though. He could only make matters worse, as much as he hated to admit this fact.  
  
The atmosphere that their estrangement was creating could be felt palpably in the people who knew them well. Sasami was feeling it the most, Yosho could tell. He wondered if it was an offshoot of what Tsunami was feeling as well. He couldn't be sure, not knowing what the goddess' intentions had been. He didn't think this was it, he truly didn't.  
  
And also, his wife was showing the effects of the tension that now filled their home, particularly when Tei'rn and Ayeka were in the same room. He would see her watching them, watching Tei'rn's confused and lost eyes as they followed Ayeka around the room. Watching Ayeka as she practically fawned over Tenchi.  
  
Kyokki had a soft heart, and her empathic talent leant her understanding that she perhaps wished she could shed at times like those.  
  
At night, as they lay together, he would sometimes hear her weeping in the darkness of their room, her shoulders shaking as he held her closely to him, trying to impart his support and love. He hated that they were making her feel that way. She would turn and cling to him, pressing her damp face against his chest as he murmured words of comfort, smoothing her hair with a gentle hand.  
  
Yosho sighed, turning and walking into his office, settling down at the table. He stared out the window for a long moment, then bent his head, resting it in one hand. Love made people do strange things, he thought, stupid things, grand things, awful things, hurtful things, wonderful things...  
  
Tei'rn scratched at the door, and Yosho straightened, banishing his thoughts to a far corner of his mind. "Come in."  
  
Tei'rn entered, his face assuming a smile that Yosho found was painful to watch.  
  
"Good morning, Yo'zo." Tei'rn said quietly as he sat across from the dark haired man. "I have question..." He paused, thoughtfully staring at the table. "Would Yo'zo tell me about..." He blushed slightly. "Mating customs? Tei'rn thought... He is afraid he does not understand how they work here."  
  
Yosho's mind reeled in terror, though his face did nothing to reflect it. 'Oh, sweet, obnoxious, meddling Tsunami, this will not go well at all, not at all...'  
  
Tei'rn stood, a tall figure of utter stillness, in a small clearing not far from the shrine. In a distant way he was aware of Yosho sitting on a stone not far away, much in the same fashion as he was aware of the small stream that flowed just out of sight, the insects crawling in the mulch that covered the forest floor, the particles of air that shifted as the wind blew through his bound hair. The beating of his own heart, however, was the thing foremost in his consciousness.  
  
He focused on it, entirely. Nothing else existed, the dim awareness of exterior matters faded away into a mere shadow, completely buried beneath the pump and flow of that organ.  
  
'Ai'ka. A vain wish.'  
  
The thought shattered his concentration, and the world returned to bright clarity around him. Tei'rn muttered a few curses in his own tongue before breathing deeply and beginning again. Slowly, slowly, he brought the sensation back, listening to the flow of blood within his body, into his heart, in one chamber and out another, in a steady rhythm.  
  
He willed it to slow, to pump more each beat, to allow his mind to adjust the flexing of the muscle. The thudding became slower, but stronger, his body adjusting automatically, as it had been trained to do so long ago. He could hear it now, a strong beat thudding in his ears.  
  
'Slow' he thought again, and the sound became deeper. He could feel his consciousness expanding again, spreading in a circle from where he stood, planted firmly on the earth, his hands at his sides, his fists opening and closing in time to that pulsing. He could see now, though his eyes were closed, everything seeming to be a grid-like representation of its original form, different colors according to its nature.  
  
Yosho was a strong violet color, the aura surrounding his form pulsing in time to his own heart beating. The trees were green, and he could feel their life, slow and deep. His mind spread out further, but he stopped it short of the house in the valley, not letting himself think of the motivation behind it. Doing so would make him lose his concentration once again.  
  
His body pulsed in time with each slow, strong beat of his heart. He focused inward again, feeling his lungs expanding, each breath deeper than the one before, each exhalation longer. He let himself be aware of each part of his body, feeling how the whole worked together. He examined the marks that his injuries had left on his flesh and bone, adjusting himself accordingly to each weakness and strength he found there.  
  
He slowly reversed the process, but while his heart approached its normal speed, his expanded awareness was retained. When Tei'rn finally brought his heart back to its accustomed rhythm, he felt stronger, healthier, able. His preparations were complete.  
  
He opened his eyes slowly, and focused on Yosho. His vision was more acute than it had been before beginning the process.  
  
"It has been a long time since Tei'rn used the Oi'teku. In best warriors of my planet, it takes fraction of seconds to do whole preparation." He told the man, who had watched the whole thing with interest. "As Tei'rn had told Yo'zo, self-awareness of scale, makes sharper the... Hold a moment."  
  
Tei'rn reached into his shirt and pulled out a small mechanical device, which he fitted on his ear. The translator had been a gift from Mihoshi on that fateful Christmas. Tei'rn really didn't like using it, feeling, somehow, that it was like taking a shortcut. He did, however, find that on the occasions that arose when he needed to be understood clearly it was very useful.  
  
"As I was saying," He continued, speaking in his native tongue, but knowing that Yosho was hearing it in Japanese, "When the process is complete, not only is one blessed with an almost supernatural awareness of one's own weaknesses, strengths and movements, one is also aware of those surrounding him. When we use this exercise, we are almost able to see the move that will be made by our opponent before they make it."  
  
"It's an interesting principle." Yosho replied.  
  
"Some of us did not need this, the seers, though most took other vocations, were often the best warriors. They were ALWAYS so aware."  
  
'A distraction,' he thought sadly, 'until he came back.'  
  
He forced his mind back into what he was doing. He walked over and picked up a bo, turning it in his hands, knowing, because of his people's special meditation technique, where its strengths and weaknesses were, where the balance was best, how he could adjust from the staffs of metal, bone and plastic that he had used on his home world.  
  
'I still love her.' The thought flickered across his mind as he began the first form, twirling the bo in his long, slender hands, his feet starting to move in an automatic pattern that was almost a dance. As he spun, the tears in his eyes caught the light, and sparkled.  
  
Any gawkiness or hesitancy that Tei'rn displayed in his regular movements vanished when he began working in the arts that he had learned on the planet of his birth. Several weeks after his first demonstration to Yosho, he and Aidar were working side by side, their grace reflecting from one to the other as they worked through the exercises that Tei'rn was teaching the pale Kellian.  
  
Kyokki watched them, sitting cross-legged on the ground, her chin resting on one slim hand.  
  
Tei'rn had flung himself back into his training with a ferocity that was almost startling to her. She recalled him as always a reluctant, hesitant student of the arts, though he eventually became proficient at them. She was fairly sure, by her observations, that it was a way for him to take his mind off of his problems with Ayeka, which had escalated.  
  
Ayeka had moved on to treating him with polite disinterest, which both infuriated and saddened the fire goddess. The empathy that she retained from her other form told her differently, told her of the constant struggle that Ayeka was putting herself through, not being able to let herself let go of Tenchi, yet loving another.  
  
And dear Tei'rn, he was so confused, and upset, it was difficult for her to bear his distress. He, unlike Ayeka, knew what he was feeling, and that made it all the harder. He loved her, with all of his being, he wanted to be with her, hear her laugh, see her smile.  
  
Kyokki sighed painfully. He wanted her to love him back. But Kyokki could also feel his resignation, and knew that if it came to it, he would forever hold that love to himself, and cherish it.  
  
It made her want to weep and scream at the same time.  
  
Tei'rn was stopping now, smiling at Aidar as he grabbed a towel from the ground and mopped off his face and chest. It was quite a warm day, and with the noonday sun, the two of them had ended up shedding their shirts, Aidar revealing his smooth torso and Tei'rn his scars. He had built up quite a physique, she mused, since his first days when he was painfully emaciated, now she could see lean muscles rippling under his pale skin as he moved.  
  
The two of them took a few swallows of water, then walked over to where Kyokki sat. She, knowing the routine quite well by now, moved to pick up the bokken that had lain beside her, and handed them to the two men.  
  
Aidar winked at her as he turned away, and she stuck out her tongue at his retreating back. Aidar was more than the impassive man who spoke little and showed next to nothing on his face. His mind was quick and well tuned, he was graceful and kind, and he did like Mihoshi. Perhaps it would turn into more, she was unsure, even more so now after the few months that had passed and produced a split between Ayeka and Tei'rn. But then, he had always been unpredictable, almost to a greater extent than she herself.  
  
The two men faced each other on the smooth grass, and Kyokki watched interestedly, the forms were fascinating to observe.  
  
Tenchi wandered up into the foothills, simply to get away. He needed a respite from the tension that seemed to grow every day. He had tried talking to Ayeka, to tell her why they had done what they had done, how he had realized he loved Ryoko. She had simply smiled at him, patted his hand and made him some tea.  
  
He didn't know what else he could do. He cared for Ayeka, quite deeply, but it just wasn't the kind of affection she seemed to want. Unfortunately, she seemed determined that she could change his mind, that she could make the type of love that she wanted between them to grow despite what he had told her.  
  
Maybe she was right, but he doubted it. He just didn't have the heart to tell her that. Maybe if she and Ryoko talked... He shuddered, not a good idea. Explosion was a very likely result to when the two of them were in one room together. Tenchi sighed and kept walking.  
  
It was not long after when he came upon the small clearing where Aidar and Tei'rn had been working. Aidar didn't seem to notice him standing there, but as Tenchi watched, Tei'rn looked over at him.  
  
Tenchi had perhaps expected anger in the young man, fury that the woman he so obviously loved had chosen another upon which to lavish her abundant affection, but that was not what he saw when Tei'rn looked at him. Instead, he saw a sadness, a sorrow that radiated from deep within him, showing through his eyes. Then he smiled, which, coupled with his eyes, was something heart-breaking to behold.  
  
Tenchi quickly turned away. And came face to face with Kyokki, who had been standing behind him, watching. Her face was blank, but as he walked past, she laid her hand on his arm, and he thought he heard her sigh.  
  
Later that day, Tei'rn sat in the onsen, allowing the water to soak away the aches and pains in his flesh, wishing it could do the same for his heart. Still, it was a most soothing place to be, with the softly rushing water, and the greenery surrounding him. He settled himself more comfortably against the side of the pool, his arms stretched out along the wooden deck, and he allowed himself to remember.  
  
He thought of that first time that Ayeka had brought him there, and let his mind dwell on the past rather than to think about the present. He closed his eyes at the sudden pain that filled him, as the present flooded back. He didn't know what to do... he didn't know what to do...   
  
Several weeks later found Tenchi and Tei'rn facing each other across the small field. Neither was sure whose idea this had been, but they had somehow ended up here, in the early morning mists, with Yosho looking on, again from a stone at the edge of the field. Tenchi thought it was the suggestion his grandfather had made, as he had been having tea with him, expressing his wish to see how Tei'rn's fighting style would look in action against Juraian.  
  
Maybe Tei'rn had heard in passing. But when he had approached the field in the early morning, taking a walk to work out his troubled mind, he had somehow found himself with bokken in hand, in the middle of the field.  
  
Tei'rn's expression was blank, his eyes intent, the bokken shifting in his hands. Tenchi looked at his grandfather once, then turned his attention back to the match, watching for any signs of movement from the other man. Tei'rn's ear twitched slightly, but the rest of him stood stone still as Tenchi made his opening move, his bokken raised quickly and slashing in at Tei'rn's left side.  
  
Tei'rn slid away, as though he were nothing more than water and air, taken form, his weapon swinging at Tenchi's neck. Tenchi twisted quickly to block his answering swing, bringing his bokken up quickly to protect his throat. Tei'rn's weapon met his own with a solid thwack and he moved into a defensive position, backing away a few steps, his face intent. Tenchi followed his movements, stepping into a turn and swinging again, Tei'rn met it and turned it away, following through Tenchi's action to keep the two of them face to face, his own features still impassive.  
  
Then Tenchi got serious.  
  
Ayeka hadn't made her way to this spot in a long while. She had thought she had left it behind her when she had said good-bye finally to her memories of Tenchi. But now, she was embracing them again, now that he had returned. And so she walked, her shoes making soft pats on the spring grasses, tracing her path back through the trees, lost in her thoughts.  
  
This was the place where she had stood after putting the past behind her, she thought as she stood on the windswept hilltop. This was the place that she had first caught sight of the falling ship that contained Tei'rn.  
  
She winced slightly, then wondered why her heart had suddenly given a pained twinge. She swept her hair out of her face, looking down. And just over there was the scar his ship had left upon the mountain. There was another painful twinge, and she placed her hand on her chest, frowning.  
  
She shook her head, sighing, wondering where Tenchi was as she moved down the hillside.  
  
She had given him up, or so she had thought, but when she had seen him again, she knew that it wasn't that simple. He loved her, she knew that, he just wouldn't admit it. She had to make him admit it, she couldn't have been wrong about it.  
  
And she still loved him, the gentleness of his hands, ( hands long-fingered and palely graceful as they moved), his eyes, (eyes shining like quicksilver), his soft voice, (a voice musical in its hesitancy), his smile...HIS smile... No, she thought, shaking her head. Why was she thinking of Tei'rn? She loved Tenchi, Tenchi.  
  
Tei'rn was constantly invading her thoughts, distracting her, making her heart twinge. But no, she loved Tenchi, and that was the end of it.  
  
That decided, she picked up her pace, her resolution adding firmness to her footfalls. And now, her mind uncluttered by troubled thoughts, she found herself hearing sounds in a clearing nearby, the clatter of wood meeting and being thrust away, the grunts of exertion.  
  
She walked softly and curiously over, concealing herself partly behind a tree and leaning upon as she peered around to see what was happening. Her eyes wide, she watched as Tenchi and Tei'rn battered at each other with bokken, their motions carrying them from one side of the field to the other, then back again, once or twice coming very close to her hiding place.  
  
Yosho watched, his dark violet eyes measuring as swing met block and counter-swing. The two of them seemed pretty evenly matched, even though it was somewhat difficult to tell judging by the differences in the styles they used. Tei'rn moved like quicksilver, depending on his heightened awareness to seek where Tenchi would strike next, and if necessary he slid away, malleable as the wind. Tenchi was in constant motion, and he was quite holding his own and more.  
  
Yosho was impressed, the boy had been studying with his wife while they were gone, it seemed. One last burst of movement, and a hard thwack of wood meeting flesh resounded through the clearing.  
  
He heard a small cry in the woods and turned his head to see a flash of purple hair amongst the branches of the trees. Ayeka was watching. He wondered what she was thinking, observing the two men who were pulling her heart in different directions, even if she wasn't fully aware of it.  
  
Tei'rn was gasping slightly, the heavy strike on his ribs slowing him considerably as he met Tenchi's next strike, and the next and the next, his movements lacking his earlier alacrity, his face stiff with concentration. He managed to get one blow in, on Tenchi's shoulder, before Tenchi took his legs out from under him with a low swipe and stopped, the point of his bokken resting at the pale man's neck, his foot on the arm with which Tei'rn was still clutching his.  
  
"You alright?" Tenchi asked the other man quietly, withdrawing his weapon and stepping back, offering his hand to help Tei'rn up. Tei'rn stared at the proffered hand for a long moment before taking it, and hoisting himself up.  
  
"Yes," he said finally, his eyes averted. "I thank you for the lesson, and may we never meet on field of battle." He told the dark haired young man formally.  
  
"Er...yeah..." Tenchi replied.  
  
Tei'rn looked at him, and he smiled. Then he turned, and walked away.  
  
Tenchi watched him go, with an uneasy feeling that he was missing something.  
  
Ayeka shakily removed the hands that had clasped themselves over her mouth, holding in the cry of 'Don't hurt him!' that had nearly escaped her. She watched Tei'rn walk away, her thoughts once again cluttered and troubled.  
  
It was not long after this incident that they found that the presence of Tei'rn had finally been discovered by the planet of Jurai, and, more specifically, by the king himself.  
  
Tei'rn was sitting on the deck of the main house, his wind-player in his hands, quietly playing his fingers over the carvings on the surface. The song he was playing had a distinctly melancholy air to it, and even the cheerful chirping of the evening crickets fell silent before its muted sadness.  
  
In that unnatural stillness, the roar that began to sound from the darkening sky became clearly audible. He looked up, and saw what appeared to be a ship, which seemed to be made mostly out of wood. Tei'rn's mind reeled at the thought of a tree large enough to contribute such a huge, seamless outer hull. The ship stopped in its descent just as he heard the door behind him quickly slide open.  
  
Soft footsteps hurriedly took a few steps forward, then stopped abruptly beside him. He looked up and saw Sasami, who was staring at the ship with a peculiar look on her face.  
  
"Za'za'mi, who is it?" Tei'rn asked her.  
  
The young princess looked down at him, her face briefly blank, before she answered. "It looks like my father's personal ship." She went on, almost to herself, "Did he come on his own, are mommy and mother Funako here too? Why didn't he come on the royal ship?"  
  
"Is something, wrong, Za'za'mi?" Tei'rn stood hurriedly, bending to look into her eyes. He saw something fearful there. Why should she fear meeting her father? He would give much to be able to see his father one more time. Impossible, of course, he thought with a blunt cut of grief.  
  
"I don't know, Tei'rn." She replied. "And that worries me. Brother Yosho didn't tell him you were here, so I have to wonder if he found out or not."  
  
"He is here because of me?" He asked, startled.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
A moment later, the rest of the household had rushed to the deck, waiting to greet their visitor. And Tei'rn, standing between Ayeka and Kyokki, found himself holding his breath in trepidation. All too soon he noticed a shimmering in the air near the end of the dock, and the form of a tall man became evident in that shimmer, becoming solid in a matter of seconds.  
  
He was a formidable looking man, with a long beard and hair the color of Ayeka's. An air of authority surrounded him, issuing, it seemed to the pale young man, from his stern face and dark violet eyes. Looking at him, Tei'rn could see he was a man used to giving commands, and equally used to having those commands carried out with alacrity.  
  
Tei'rn lifted his chin, knowing this type, and knowing how they thought. Any sign of weakness and they would crush you under their heel without thinking twice about it. The gaze the man turned on him was cool and calculating. The stare intensified, and Tei'rn felt a lofty expression forming automatically on his face, one that he hadn't worn in many years.  
  
"You are the one called Tei'rn." It wasn't precisely a question.  
  
He drew himself up, aware of the other's eyes upon him. Speaking carefully, aware that every word would be weighed equally so, he replied, "Yes, I am Bo'sai Tei'rn Ked'chami'coda To Med'iya Chandir." It was the first time in a long time that he had said his given name and titles in their entirety, but he felt that formality was called for in this situation. The words had the taste of things lost, he thought.  
  
He caught Ayeka looking at him at the corner of his vision, her brow furrowed, and he avoided her eyes.  
  
"You are late of Seta'ka."  
  
Tei'rn nodded. "I am the only one remaining of that place."  
  
Azusa drew himself up. "I am Azusa, king of Jurai."  
  
Tei'rn bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of his rank, "Cho, Azu'za." He said, saluting. "May peace follow your footsteps." Tei'rn suddenly felt disoriented, as though he were abruptly in another time and place.  
  
Azusa's eyes narrowed, and Tei'rn thought that perhaps he had not addressed him properly. Tei'rn felt his ears twitching irritably, and grew a bit more disconcerted when Azusa's eyes turned to them as though he disapproved of their size, shape, or movement.  
  
This was Ai'ka's father, he reminded himself sharply, and Tei'rn did not know how such things worked on Jurai, but on Seta'ka, getting along well with the parent's of one's mate was a beneficial thing. A feeling of defeat washed over him. Of course, why should he care what her father thought, she didn't love him.  
  
Finally, Azusa cleared his throat. "I have come here with an offer from the Science Academy, which has historically been closely linked with Jurai. We have a considerable lack of information on your destroyed planet, and in furtherance of our studies we are offering you a place at the Academy so we can study your culture with firsthand information."  
  
Tei'rn stared at him, unable to keep the incredulity off of his face. He turned his gaze to the others, and found most looking skeptically at the king of Jurai, all but Ayeka, who was looking back at Tei'rn with an odd expression on her face.  
  
Finally, Yosho stepped forward, clearing his throat in a manner much like his father's. "Father, would you join us for tea? I do not think this is a matter that can be decided immediately."  
  
Azusa practically glared at his son, then nodded, following him with a stately tread as Yosho led the way into the house.  
  
Tei'rn stayed where he stood for a few long minutes, his hands curled into fists as he stared off across the softly rippling waters of the lake. Leave Earth? He wondered, looking down at his feet, if he could do that. He had grown to hold this place and these people close to his heart, and the thought of leaving made him feel somehow empty.  
  
But, perhaps it would be better if he did leave. He had accepted that Ayeka could choose Tenchi over him, he had tested and found him worthy in his own way. Tenchi perhaps was not aware of it, but in Tei'rn's own thoughts he had already conceded defeat.  
  
If Ayeka didn't want him, that was the way it was, one could not force love. He would always love her, but he wanted her to be happy. If she was happy with Tenchi, Tei'rn would not stand in the way of it, her joy took precedence over all else. And if he left, he wouldn't have to deal with the continual reminder of her choice every day that he saw her smiling face look at Tenchi rather than himself.  
  
But if he stayed, there was still a chance that the two of them could be together. There was a chance that she could love him back. Then he would not lose her lovely eyes, eyes that shone like the twin suns over his lost home.  
  
He turned, and found Ayeka standing there, watching him.  
  
His eyes widened in a flash of shocked silver, and he searched for something to say. "You...did not want tea?" He said, finding the phrase lame the moment it left his mouth.  
  
She shook her head, her glorious ruby eyes still fastened upon his face. He found himself growing nervous under her stare, a nervousness that had not even made itself known as he had faced the ominous figure of the king of Jurai. He felt overwhelmed with love for her, but that was tinged with despair, as though there was something in her face that made him feel like he was about to lose all hope. A moment later, it all came crashing down.  
  
"You should go." She told him. He stared at her wordlessly as she broke off eye contact, turning halfway towards the house as though looking into his eyes were something unbearable. "It is a great opportunity, and you should go. You'll like it there, I think." He continued to stare at her, his words gone. "I think you should go."  
  
If Ayeka had been looking into his eyes at that moment she would have seen something, something that had tenaciously refused to be quenched through the destruction of a world, and the experience of being cast homeless through the stars, give one last feeble flicker, and die.  
  
"I see." Tei'rn said behind her, his voice incredibly heavy. "If...you think this is good..." She did not turn around. "If this is what you want..."  
  
She nodded, not looking at him.  
  
"I see." He said again. "Cho...Ai'ka."  
  
Ayeka heard the sound of his footsteps walking away across the deck, coming faster and faster as they retreated, and when she finally looked back, he was gone.  
  
The house was dark, and Tei'rn fumbled his way along the wall, his feet feeling as heavy as his heart. He had returned to accept the King's proposal, ignoring the shocked looks of those who had kept him since he had fallen into their laps, then had left the house again after learning that they would be leaving in the morning. And now, as was his tradition, he was going to make his final farewell.  
  
He found the door to Ayeka's bedroom and paused there a moment, his head pressed against the cool wood. He didn't really want to leave, but Ayeka had made it clear that he was not welcome anymore.  
  
In Tei'rn's culture there was such a thing as a right of hospitality. When it was withdrawn there were no hard feelings on either side. It was understood that the one who had given the hospitality knew best when it was time to withdraw it, and the one who had accepted it needed to move on. It was understood and no one questioned it, just as he did not.  
  
She had told him to go, and though he longed with all his heart that he could stay, it was her right. She didn't want him, and he had to accept that.  
  
So why did he feel so cold, so lost, as though the darkness, like that which filled the hall in which he was standing, had filled him as well? Before, he had always harbored some hope, retained some happiness, even with all he had suffered and lost. It was gone now. It was gone, taken by the only one who could bring it back.  
  
Tei'rn straightened, scrubbing his hands over his damp face, and hesitantly opened the door to Ayeka's room. He peered around the doorframe, seeing the sleeping figures of Ayeka and her sister outlined in the dark room. He had never been in this room before, it was not his place, but this was the one time that it was allowed, at least in his mind. His heart hurt as he walked softly into the room, kneeling beside Ayeka's futon.  
  
It was time to say goodbye.  
  
He watched her sleep for what seemed to be a long time, her blankets rising and falling with her sleeping breath, her face relaxed in slumber, her glorious eyes closed, cutting him off from that reminder of the suns of his home world. She turned slightly in her sleep, a lock of her dark hair falling across her cheek and he reached out his hand, smoothing it gently back. His hand lingered, and the spell of his reverie was broken.  
  
"Ai'ka," Tei'rn said softly, then he had to stop for a moment, swallowing hard. "Ai'ka," He continued. "On my planet, when one who loves another must leave, to go to war or on a long journey, they do not say their goodbyes when they may feel restrained by reactions, but when they can speak freely." He unconsciously spoke in his native tongue, perhaps because he could only freely express himself that way. "I have made a good-bye like this only once before, to my sister, who was like my mother. Now, this is different, I do not love you like a mother, Ai'ka."  
  
He whispered, "No, not like that. Since the moment I first saw you, Ai'ka, when the goddess guided my spirit to you in my dream, I have found a feeling for you, Ai'ka, that I never had for any other woman. It grew as you cared for me, and taught me of your world. I was not lost when I was with you. You allowed me to grieve, and to laugh."  
  
Ayeka moved again, frowning slightly, and her hand emerged from beneath her blankets. Tei'rn took it gently in his, stroking his fingers lightly across her soft palm. "I grew with you there to nurture me, Ai'ka, and I love you for that." He paused, then decided to leave off of topics that hurt too much, instead focusing on happier times. "Your home is rich, Ai'ka, as is your affection. I hope that you were fond of me, and that my impression that you were was not misplaced. If so, it is my fault entirely."  
  
Tei'rn felt his jaw clench, and his eyes burn. "You gave me back what I had lost, Ai'ka, love, a home, a family, a place to belong, if only for a while. I thank you for that. Peace be upon you, Ai'ka."  
  
He released her hand, laying it gently back upon the coverlet, and rocked back on his heels, filling his eyes with her. Her face was turned towards him, and the rising moon, which could be seen outside the window, outlined her figure, giving her a subtle glow.  
  
He hesitated, then leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. Then he pulled back slightly and whispered in her ear. The same words in two languages, "I love you, Ai'ka. Ai'ka mi'consta ha."  
  
The words were a caress, and in her sleep, Ai'ka smiled. Tei'rn did not see this, though, his eyes had closed with the pain of knowing that this would be the only time he could say those words to her.  
  
He rose quietly, then turned and looked back, smiling sadly at Sasami's sleeping back. "Cho, Za'za'mi." he whispered; then he left the room. He had made his farewells.  
  
The door shut behind him, and Sasami opened her eyes, their liquid-filled depths shimmering in the darkness. How had this happened, she thought.  
  
Meanwhile, Ayeka, caught in the depths of a glorious dream that she would promptly forget about upon opening her eyes in the morning, shifted again, and her other hand emerged from beneath the blankets, a hand bearing a beautiful ring that looked formed by the Earth itself.  
  
The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, the low-lying clouds reflecting soft pinks and golds upon themselves and upon the mountains. The lake shimmered like a gigantic opal as Tei'rn stood in the mountains, looking down. He raised his hands palm-up, staring at the sky, then brought one to his lips and touched it to his heart.  
  
"Good-bye." He said softly to the earth that had received him.  
  
Azusa waited impatiently at the end of the dock. He was eager to be off, and the man was making him wait. He hated waiting. Ayeka stood beside him, looking pensive, and vaguely unhappy.  
  
He glanced at her and saw her look at him piercingly, then away. "I contacted mother." She said abruptly, "And she's very much looking forward to meeting Tei'rn."  
  
Azusa decided not to respond to the hidden threat and warning in her words, just grunting to let her know that he heard her. "That boy had better show up soon." He said, after a minute had trudged by.  
  
As though the words had summoned him, Tei'rn appeared at the edge of the lake, his hair, like abalone nacre, catching fire in the light of the rising sun, a small pack of his belongings slung across his back. He passed by the group that were standing on the porch of the house, nodding and smiling at each person he had gotten to know over the course of his time there, and walked to where Azusa and Ayeka were waiting.  
  
"Let's go." Azusa said when the young man reached him. Tei'rn nodded.  
  
"Goodbye, Tei'rn, I hope you'll be happy at the University." Ayeka added. Tei'rn glanced at her briefly, then looked away, nodding. Ayeka was taken aback, but Azusa was secretly satisfied. He had hoped that it would not be difficult to get him away from his daughter, and it had proved even easier than he had expected.  
  
Ayeka moved away from the two, and in the glowing light of the transporter a moment later, Tei'rn had gone.  
  
Ayeka went back to the porch, conscious that everyone was looking at her, but not knowing why. "Well, how about breakfast?" She asked. None of them moved. "What is it?"  
  
"What did you say to him?"  
  
"Sasami?"  
  
Her sister had moved from the back of the group, her face, Ayeka now saw, was devastated, contorted with tears. "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM?" She demanded, her voice hoarse.  
  
"I...said goodbye..." Ayeka said, alarmed.  
  
"Not right now, last night!"  
  
Ayeka stared at her, wondering what was wrong, why she looked so angry. "I told him he should go."  
  
"You..." Sasami stared at her as though she had never seen her before. "You...didn't!"  
  
"I don't understand, it was a great opportunity for him." Ayeka backed up a few steps under her little sister's wrath, it reminded her uncomfortably of the wrath of the goddess. "He'll be happy there."  
  
"No, he won't! He won't be happy, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!" Sasami burst out in a freshet of tears.  
  
Now Ayeka was getting angry. "How is it my fault? All he was doing here was eating and sleeping, he couldn't even get a job; he was a burden on Noboyuki's hospitality." She wondered why the words tasted so sour as she said them.  
  
"He wasn't." Noboyuki murmured so quietly that she didn't even hear.  
  
"It's better with him gone." Ayeka finished.  
  
Sasami looked at her, her face pale and marked with the track of tears. A few quick steps closer and her arm lifted, slapping Ayeka across the face.  
  
Ayeka's hand flew up to her cheek as she stared at her sister in surprise. "How dare you call him a burden?" She said, her voice dreadfully quiet. "How could you be so blind, so cruel? I kept quiet and didn't interfere because I thought eventually you would see, but now I know I was wrong. Sister, I don't like you very much right now." Then her face contorted again, and she whirled, running into the house.  
  
Kyokki, her face grave, followed after the distraught girl. She reached the girl's room and heard her sobbing inside, "Sasami?" She said softly before entering without waiting for an answer. She found Sasami weeping on her futon, and she quickly knelt beside her, taking her in her arms. "You couldn't have known, cousin. Maybe things will work out." She murmured, rocking the young goddess in her arms.  
  
"How can they?" The girl who would be Tsunami demanded. "It's all ruined."  
  
"Some things are beyond our control," Kyokki murmured, smoothing her hair, "But we are not the highest authority. Cousin, if they are meant to be together, as you seem to think they are, they will be together, no matter what we do. And if not..."  
  
Down below, Ayeka stood where Sasami had left her, her eyes stricken, and her hand pressed to her red cheek. She turned and looked at the spot where her father's ship had been. Why hadn't he said goodbye?  
  
The small ship skated through space, its pilot half-drowsing at the controls. She had programmed the course, and since the ship was of her design she didn't have to worry about malfunctions. That only crossed her mind when Mihoshi was around.  
  
The proximity alarms went off, and she came completely awake, scanning the screens that popped up. A Jurai ship, she saw, the personal ship of the King of Jurai if she wasn't mistaken...and she was never mistaken. It was heading away from her destination, she noticed, and she knew that they had already made good on their intention of offering a place to the survivor, if there was one, at the Academy. It was unfortunate, she thought, that she hadn't disembarked earlier.  
  
She was eager to get back, though, she thought as she shifted in the comfortable chair, it had been a while. But the project she had been assigned to had been so engrossing that she couldn't possibly have left before. But when they had discovered the ion trail of a small craft heading away from the planet, she became eager to leave, particularly when she had discovered where it was heading.  
  
There had been no variations in the course she was following, and she suspected that it was not a mere accident that it was leading to where it was. She looked up through the view-screen and saw the growing blue light of the third planet circling an unremarkable yellow sun began to fill her view.  
  
She would find out soon enough if her suspicions were correct, and if indeed a treasure had landed on the Earth, a treasure that perhaps only she and a few select others knew the true worth of.  
  
End of Section Three A/N: Well, this section took me a while, ne? Sorry to all of you that waited. And thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you that are actually reading this new section after the long wait. It's my own procrastination that is to blame, really. I had most of this section written MONTHS ago, and I just couldn't get myself to finish it. But...as you can see, I finished it with the help of my #Tenchiff betas, Jocko (The Plushie Provider) EvilPii (The Fencing Master), and Hounder (Erm...The One of the Wandering Hands)...thanks luvs!  
Now to write the next, and hopefully last section. I'll try not to leave you guys hanging for to long. 


	4. Fertile Soil

I do not own, in any way shape or form, Tenchi Muyo! Ryo-ohki. But believe me, I would love to, if only that meant that I could wipe from the Earth any traces of the horrible, let me repeat, horrible OVA three.

This work of fiction is based on the OVA series, with the exception of the one mentioned above. All characters and places that do not appear in the Tenchi series, or in real life, belong to me.

Thank you.

Section Four: Fertile Soil

Tei'rn's eyelids fluttered against the light that had suddenly appeared to beat upon his sleeping face. He reached out blindly to pull the curtains that kept out the brightness from the early-rising first sun closed again.

"Up, up! Up brother mine!"

The voice wouldn't leave him alone. At least the light could be ignored, but the constant shouting in one's ear was less easily shut out. He guessed at the owner of the voice's intentions a moment too late to clutch the covers to himself, and they were yanked off of his body, pooling in a soft, and considerably large, lump on the floor.

"Curse you Den'n." He mumbled loudly. He didn't want to leave his nice bed, the cocoon-like synthetic foam material warmed and molded to his form by the heat of his body, the pillowing extra padding at the head just perfectly mounded in all the right places.

"Pardon? What was that?" His brother gasped. "This is the thanks I get, rousting myself at the wee hours of the morning…"

"Really, you shouldn't have…"

His brother ignored him. "…fending my way through the dark and dangerous streets of the city…"

"You live next door…"

"And all to bring my beloved brother a bit of joy into his dreary, humdrum existence."

"Why don't you get a wife so you can bother her first thing in the morning. Of course, it's asking a lot of any woman to put up with you."

"I'm injured. Truly I am." Den'n responded, his speech now at its end. Tei'rn had heard its like many a time before. He had heard a version when his brother had wanted the last piece of meat at supper and when Den'n wanted his brother to join him at the clubs, a thing Tei'rn detested due to several not-so-great experiences. Times uncountable he had heard it, but he didn't have the heart to deny his brother the enjoyment of his little speeches.

Tei'rn sat up, tucking his hands beneath his arms to preserve some of the warmth his blankets had imparted before they had been pulled away. Den'n tossed him a robe.

"You should be grateful I can stand your ugly mug in the morning, Brother, otherwise no one would ever wake you up." Den'n said with his trademark broad grin. It was a grin that made one want to smile, to laugh, as though the curve of his lips were imparting some private joke so funny that you just had to join along. Tei'rn resisted the urge and scowled at his fun-loving brother while finding the sleeves of the robe with his just-wakened arms.

"See? Scary." Den'n grinned even wider even while pretending to flinch away.

Tei'rn stifled a yawn as he rolled out of bed, his feet finding the floor. "So what brings you here, this time?" His hands went to unbind his braid and his brother turned his back. Thankfully he still had some decency.

"I'm taking you to eat."

"Hmm…" Tei'rn replied, his hands busy smoothing and re-braiding. "I'm afraid you won't find me very palatable."

"Ah, you're starting to find your sense of humor again. I was afraid it had gone and lost itself." Den'n stared out the window, where the second sun was just beginning its ascent into the morning sky. "I made a picnic." He seemed to feel his brother's doubting gaze and correcting himself. "Okay, Pel'ln made a picnic."

"Alright then, I think we'll survive if he made it." Tei'rn snorted.

"I haven't poisoned anyone."

"Recently."

"It was ten years ago, Tei-tei, let it go."

"So where are we going on this little picnic?" Tei'rn turned, and the wind from the open window struck his face, promising the heat of the day, though it was still early enough to be cool. His brother looked over his shoulder, his long, elegant fingers brushing a wavy lock of dark indigo hair away from his face. All his siblings had those elegant fingers; dexterous in anything they put their hands to. Den'n had put his to metal crafting, and the items, whatever their intended purpose, were always quite fine. Anything from complex machinery to delicate jewelry could, and often did, emerge from his shop.

"Pulpit Stone," His brother answered, snugging his light yet covering cloak more securely around his body. Most people wore these whenever they went outside their own residences. The light cloth that draped around the neck and shoulders and fell to the feet in a gentle drop could be pulled over the head against the hot sun and while thin enough to see through was tensile enough to parry a poorly aimed knife thrust. Beneath this garment, Den'n favored a long robe and vest belted and fastened with one of his creations, with his guild medallion hanging from it as well.

Tei'rn hid a yawn behind his hand, making his way to his wardrobe and pulling out a pair of trousers in a light billowy material intended to be tucked into boots and a snug fitting shirt that left his arms bare. He tossed the night robe with pinpoint aim onto his brother's ear then began to dress with mild curses drifting toward his unresponsive brain like quiet and meaningless music. The last thing he did was pull out his own medallion and his long knife, the former pinned to his shirt above his heart and the latter strapped under his right arm.

"Pulpit Stone," He said finally. "There's hardly room to stand up there, let alone eat." He swung his own mantle around his bare shoulders.

"We'll manage." Den'n narrowed his pale blue eyes at him in a mock scowl. "We always do."

They found the picnic in the kitchen, which was set away from the palace to keep its heat from invading the night-cool halls, along with several other members of the family, most of whom also had the air of being recently awakened.

Of the four siblings, only Ser'da really looked completely rested, but then, he was a soldier and had been one for many years. He was trained to function on little sleep. He could function through pretty much anything, Tei'rn thought privately, with his light green hair perfectly tended just as his wife had arranged it that morning, and his dark violet eyes somewhat bemused but kind. He lifted his hand in greeting, and as his mantle fell back Tei'rn could see that he was already in his armor.

Pel'ln, who had only recently decided that his vocation was to be following in his warrior brother's footsteps, fared somewhat worse, and by the look that he directed at Den'n he had also been subjected to an early wake-up call. He always braided his hair low on his back, and the shorter violet hairs around his face curled with perspiration from working over the stoves. He didn't say anything, though he could have a sharp tongue when so desired. Instead he took a plate to each of the figures sitting at the table.

Tei'rn recognized a niece, one of Ser'da's daughters who had been spending more time at the palace now that she had reached womanhood, and a nephew still young enough to be in first school. He knew their names, but found he could not call them up at the moment. There were many of them, after all.

Sitting with them were two more of his siblings, his brother Gil'rn, whose pale gray hair always looked slightly mussed despite his wife's ministrations, and who always had a harried look in his blue eyes, under the left a small red tattoo stood stark against his pale face. He was a good leader, though, no matter his appearance, groomed for the job since he was as young as that nephew who was staring up at Tei'rn with large, worshipful eyes.

Tei'rn patted the boy on the head, trying and wondering why he could not remember his name, and sat beside the last person at the table, who Pel'ln was tending to with a tender attentiveness one would not think to find in him. She sat quietly, the light from the first sun streaming through the window and tinting the hair on her bowed head the color of blood.

"Kist'ry," He murmured, "Good morning, dear heart."

She looked at him as though suddenly realizing he was there. Her almost colorless eyes focusing on him with an effort she attempted a smile that died before it came to her lips.

"Hig'nu." Her pet name for him fell softly in her sweet, clear voice as he lifted his hand and drew his long fingers gently through her short-cropped light purple hair.

"Did you sleep?" He asked, deeply concerned by the dark circles under her eyes and the pinched look to her face.

"I rarely do anymore, my Hig'nu." She looked down at her plate, but did not touch any of the food. "And I don't feel hungry either." She told him before he could ask the question.

"You must eat, Sister." Den'n told her gently, coming up to stand on her other side. All the brothers took great care to look after their sister, they always had, but now she needed it more than ever. Something had died in her when her love had been killed, and she seemed to be putting her toes on the edge of that same path. Though taking her own life was never a thought, it also seemed so for her desire to live.

She covered his hand with her own, and Tei'rn could tell that she wanted to smile at him, to reassure him, but she couldn't quite find it in herself. "Sweet Den'n, if you must worry for anyone, worry for my Hig'nu."

Den'n and Tei'rn shared confused looks over her head.

"You know I do, Sister dear." Den'n laughed, straining for some sense of how it once had been, before her grief and strange pronouncements. Her visions had always troubled her, a legacy from her connection with her god, which was stronger than what most women and men had. She had taken to sharing them more often in recent times, as though it didn't really matter what they told anymore. And unless she was holding something back, she had seen no visions of the future that were not about Tei'rn, and only him.

"More than I would like, actually." Tei'rn kissed her cheek.

"You two should go." Gil'rn said as he helped cut the young one's meat, Kit'ak, Tei'rn saw, and smelled. "Pulpit Stone, isn't it? It'll be too hot to stand soon."

Kist'ry's eyes snapped up to fasten on her eldest brother, as though he had said something other than that rather ordinary and really unnecessary bit of advice. Her gaze was focused and intense, and all but the young girl and boy at the table noticed this. Even Ser'da looked mildly concerned.

But all she said was, "It'll always be there," before Den'n and Tei'rn kissed her farewell, took the round container with their picnic and made their way out into the warmth of the early morning.

"Phew." Den'n said explosively as they left the cool cave of the kitchen and stepped out into the sun, "Hot already, seems to get more so day by day."

"Hotter earlier and longer into the night." Tei'rn said quietly, looking away down the twisted streets of the city. "I do not like it."

"I can guarantee you that no one likes it, brother."

"No, that's not exactly…" Tei'rn trailed off. "Ah!" The note in his voice changed. "Good morning little ones." He ignored the questioning look on his brother's face as he moved swiftly to the curb of a large, rundown building. Smiling, he attended to a small group of neatly-braided children swathed in patchwork mantles.

"Good morning, Chandir!" They chorused, delighted as always to have THE Chandir speak to them.

"Will you play us a song this morning, Chandir? Please, please." Asked one little child so swathed in clothing that its gender was indeterminate.

"Ah, I don't know…" Tei'rn told them, pretending to ponder it. "I kind of feel like playing a silly song today, and I don't think you'll want to hear a silly song, serious music lovers that you are."

"No, no! Do!" They yelped, dancing around him and almost, but not quite daring to tug at his mantle in their eagerness.

Tei'rn shared a glance and a shrug with his brother, who turned his attention to their breakfast basket.

"Well, if you insist." They chorused that they really did, which prompted him into a laugh. "Alright, alright." They stepped back when he reached into his mantle and brought out the wind-player. As always, their awe at the sight of the instrument momentarily overcame their exuberance and learned familiarity with the Chandir. "Now, where did those smiles go? Let's see if this will help." He began to play, a merry, rollicking tune that had them dancing within a few measures. He joined them for a few steps, prompting his brother to set down the basket and join in, taking one child's hands in his and coaxing her to show him how the dance was done.

They liked Chandir's Brother, as they called him, quite a bit, but in their eyes no one could remotely compare to the wonder that was the Chandir. He was the hope for their future. For these children were orphans of war and the building, whose managers luckily cared more for comforting the children than cosmetic appearances, was their home. They filtered in and out, but some had been there for a long time now. The palace funded the institution, and Tei'rn found himself visiting there often in addition to stopping as he passed to entertain the foundlings for a few moments.

Perhaps someday, Tei'rn thought as they clapped and joined hands and twirled, there would be no more wars, no more mothers and fathers dying, and no more need for such institutions. Perhaps, he would help to bring that someday about.

His brought his song to a close, and the children fell silent as a tall, stately woman with dark, almost black hair and eyes the same color exited the building, smiling. A small child, a girl, Tei'rn thought, peered at him from where she was pressed against the woman's side, her large golden eyes round.

"Mat'chi." Tei'rn greeted her, his ears giving a nervous twitch.

"Good morning, Mat'chi." He heard Den'n echo behind him.

"Good morning Chandir." She saluted Tei'rn and nodded at Den'n, as the children clustered around her skirts. "Will you give them your blessing this morning?"

"I keep telling you, Mat'chi…I'm not a priest." He shifted his feet. Mat'chi made him nervous. There was never anything forward in her demeanor, and she was strikingly attractive, but he always had this feeling when she looked into his eyes that she had plans for she and him. He was rather afraid to hear what those plans might be.

"I know that, Chandir. You are more."

Behind Tei'rn, Den'n coughed in a poor attempt to cover a laugh. Tei'rn turned slightly to give him the evil eye.

"That aside, I will happily give a blessing of sorts." He said, turning back and once again being trapped by those hypnotically dark eyes. He lifted his flute to his lips and something deep and rich came forth, not exactly a melody, but something more. It seemed for a moment that a cool wind blew around them. "I think you will find your place more comfortable today, and I will speak to my father about putting a new layer of insulating mixture on the outside."

"Thank you Chandir." Mat'chi bowed slightly and saluted him again, fist to lips then heart. "It will be a great relief to us all." She patted the head of the child clinging to her skirts. Directing her gaze at the small cluster of heads surrounding her she said gently, "Come inside in a moment, will you all? It would be a sin to waste the Chandir's blessing." Then she turned and walked inside, the child, apparently a recent addition and still not over the shock of losing her only remaining relatives, sticking close to her as though afraid to let her out of sight.

Tei'rn put the wind-player away, using the activity to distract himself from the way Mat'chi's intricate braid swayed across her hips as she walked. He would almost swear she did that on purpose. Meanwhile, Den'n, a smile twitching across his lips as he made no attempt to look away, was distributing something from the basket. He handed one to each child with a smile and a wink. "Give this extra piece to the little gold-eyed one, will you?" He asked of one of the older children. The boy nodded solemnly and went inside, the rest followed after, waving their good-byes over their shoulders before disappearing into the darkness.

"Candy?" Tei'rn asked.

Den'n nodded as he shouldered the basket and continued on. "Those new vitamin enriched ones. I think the nutritionist said that one could live on them for years with few ill effects. Though I suspect that the one in question would have had their fill within a week. They look like bricks to me, but they taste slightly better."

Tei'rn grunted. This meant of course that he had given the children the really good sort, thankfully. The cheaper kind not only looked like bricks but tasted like them as well.

They walked in silence for a while, and Tei'rn tried to ignore his brother's penetrating looks as he saluted various passerby and well-wishers.

Finally it seemed that Den'n could stand it no longer. "Fine looking woman, that Mat'chi; such dark eyes and hair with that pale skin. Wonderful with children, it may be said with confidence."

Tei'rn shrugged.

"And she seems to not mind your ugly face."

Tei'rn snorted. "Try looking in the mirror sometime, Den'n, we look exactly alike."

Den'n put on a shocked air. "I beg to differ. My handsome countenance is as the light of the moons compared to your ball of dirt for a face. Women fall at my feet, overwhelmed by my radiance."

"Then they stay down so they don't have to look at you anymore."

"You're just jealous. And I won't let you change the subject. Mat'chi is a marvelously splendid woman."

Tei'rn shrugged again. "She…" Den'n waited patiently. "She makes me nervous."

"An excellent sign, Brother dear," Den'n laughed a bit too heartily, slapping him on the back.

"Can we talk about something else?"

"No. If not her, then whom would you have take what little space is available in your dark, cold heart?"

Tei'rn paused, for they had reached the outskirts of town and were unlikely to be stopped by any who wished to talk to the Chandir, a thing that also made him nervous. He pondered the question for a moment. "I want a woman as caring as you say mother was," He swept an arm at the sky, imitating his brother's dramatics. "With eyes that shine as bright as the suns, and hair like the night sky. Who can dance like the wind, and be as clear and clean as pure water, but still burn like the fires at the center of Seta'ka." He looked at his brother, a small smile gracing his face. "That is what I want."

"High order." Den'n answered. "Then do you mind if I take Mat'chi for myself? If she'll look at the mere brother of the Chandir, that is."

Tei'rn looked at him and found him completely sober. He hadn't thought his brother had feelings for the woman, but he saw them now clearly. Had he been jealous? Had he been afraid that the woman that Tei'rn now saw he very much fancied would look at no one but the one who held the title of Chandir?

"Brother." He said, clasping his arm. "I wish you nothing but joy."

Den'n frowned at him for a moment then his sunny expression reappeared. "My thanks. And I wish the same for you, after all…" He leapt forward and caught Tei'rn in a headlock, threatening to upset both them and the basket, "With me looking out for you, even though you're so ugly that women veil their faces when you pass, there could be no other possible outcome!"

"Hrk!"

Den'n released his brother and made a great show of brushing down and straightening his robes. "Now, shall we continue?"

Tei'rn made no attempt at reply, merely following as his brother wended his way towards the narrow promontory, a jaunty spring to his step. Evidently, he took Tei'rn's silence as a sign of his own triumph.

…

"I'm…hot, and tired…" Tei'rn groaned. "Are we at the top yet?"

"Perseverance!" Den'n called back at him, "Our goal is in sight!"

A moment later Den'n had scrambled over the edge and turned to help Tei'rn up. Tei'rn took the proffered hand without protest, allowing his brother to yank him onto the narrow platform.

While under normal circumstances it was not difficult to climb the pocked and broken slightly sloping sides of the shaft of rock that jutted out of the river, the heat and the fact that Tei'rn had drawn the short odds from Den'n and had to carry the basket made it slow going.

As Tei'rn sat on the top catching his breath, his legs dangling over the edge of their precarious perch, he reflected that it might not be a bad idea to take up some of his militaristic exercises again. Although not one man or woman would ever allow the Chandir into battle, maybe he had let himself get a little out of shape after the completion of the requisite training.

He craned his neck to look back over his shoulder at his brother, who was standing on the other side of the small span, looking out. The hot wind tossed his dark hair and his mantle, and Tei'rn briefly amused himself with the thought that perhaps his brother fancied himself another Zei'zon.

He and Kist'ry shared the patronage of that god, the god of wind, who aided those who would allow themselves to see past the moment, like a vision of a pathway of choice to arrive at a certain end, or a piece of jewelry from a hunk of rather ugly metal.

Den'n had once joked that Zei'zon had chosen him because he was secretly his son. Their father, who had been passing by, had been briefly horrified. But he overcame this a moment later to say 'Well, it just goes to show, that only a god would be better than me.'

Father was like that.

Tei'rn, as the Chandir, was connected to all of the deities and held them in reverence and affection. He had been taught their secret names, had read the texts hidden from all of those but the highest of the high. He wondered what Den'n would think if he told him that their gods were but four of those numbering in the thousands watching over other worlds, singly, or in groups. He wouldn't, though. He would let Den'n keep that personal love of his god.

"A good view today." Den'n noted, "It seems like you can see all of Seta'ka from up here."

Tei'rn looked out, "It's a good place."

Den'n turned, and Tei'rn could feel him crouch behind him. "You mean, you could do it from here? Right now?"

Another of Den'n's fascinations, one shared, really, by all their people was the rebirth of their planet.

"What I could see, perhaps." Tei'rn sighed. "Look." He turned slightly and pointed. Smoke rose from a distant point near the horizon. It was inky black, a smoke of death. "But that is all that would happen to it. The green things would be burnt by our enemies, by us to keep them from being used against us. The wind would carry the choking ash and smoke and soil the water even more. They would try and claim what wasn't burnt, and we would try to drive them back to preserve it."

"You paint a bleak picture for us all, Brother." Den'n murmured.

"I've been given dark hues." Tei'rn reached up and clasped his brother's arm comfortingly. "But that is just now. Father has high hopes for that new peace accord, and then the work really can begin."

"Yes!" Den'n exclaimed, enthusiasm resumed. "With that new energy source they're working on, we can live peacefully for a while, and let you do your work," he sat down beside his brother, "Chandir."

"Augh, don't YOU call me that." Tei'rn exclaimed, pressing his hands to his ears. "Next thing you know you'll be trying to sing."

"As always, unappreciative of my dulcet tones." Den'n pouted as he pulled the picnic basket over and started rummaging through it. "I'd like to hear you sing once, and the very rocks will groan their displeasure."

"I don't sing, you know that." Tei'rn said uneasily, taking the food packet that Den'n handed him.

"I know." Den'n agreed peaceably. "Makes one wonder why."

"So, tell me about this energy project." Tei'rn not so deftly changed the subject. "I've heard rumors but nothing concrete."

Den'n swallowed a bite of food, "Then you know just about as much as I do. Something to do with earth energy, or fire, or something; I guess they're going to test it soon. Mev'ln would know more about it. But then, you two don't exactly talk, do you."

"No, not really." Tei'rn took a bite of his own food and stared off into the distance while he chewed. He nearly choked on it when he saw a huge explosion behind some hills. Another followed, then another, coming closer to the city.

He leapt to his feet, windmilling his arms as he nearly went over the edge. He took a step back. "What was that!"

"Did you wonder?" Den'n asked, still chewing contentedly at his sandwich, "Why we came here on this day?"

"What, what are you talking about?" Tei'rn struggled to keep his feet as a shockwave made the entire pillar shake.

"Kist'ry told me, that it would be the last day that we could come here together." Den'n took a drink of boiled and filtered water. "She said that the rock would still be here, but there would be no one to stand on it."

"Den'n!"

"That day, you survived, and I am happy. I was happy that day. I went to talk to Mat'chi. I took her a pretty piece of jewelry, we laughed together." Den'n looked up at his brother as explosions burst the earth apart around the tower of stone. "Then I came here, and I saw a shooting star, but it was going the wrong way. That was you. I waved, not really knowing why. I said goodbye to the star."

There was a rush of burning air, and Tei'rn choked. Then there was nothing at all, just he and his brother on the rock, the blackness of space surrounding them.

Den'n stood and faced Tei'rn, who wept unaware of the tears rushing down his face. "Brother. I wish you nothing but joy." He said, kissing his fist and touching it to Tei'rn's heart.

"Den'n…!" Tei'rn protested.

A shadow had appeared behind Den'n. And then that shadow took the form of a man, unearthly graceful, his nearly black blue hair and eyes almost blending into the space that backed him. Very gently, he wrapped his billowing mantle around Tei'rn's brother.

"See!" Den'n laughed. "We really DO look alike." Then they vanished and Tei'rn was alone on the pulpit stone.

There was only darkness. A darkness in which only two faint red lights glowed, illuminating a single grieving figure on a solitary pillar of stone.

…

Tei'rn sat up with a gasp. He was frightened, he realized, and disoriented. It had felt so real. How many times had he been awoken in that manner, grumpily opening his eyes to his brother's smiling face, hearing of some adventure planned for the day while the world woke up around them? He rubbed his face, and found wetness on his cheeks.

Since they had started this journey to Ai'ka's home planet, his nights had become more and more restless, the horrible homesickness that he had fought off so diligently as long as he had two shining eyes to keep him home was returning, terribly magnified until he thought he would die from the grief alone. He was having trouble eating, and the dreams were keeping him awake at night. It felt as though he were slowly turning back into the wasted wraith he had been when he had crashed upon the Earth.

He lay back again, staring without his usual appreciation at the wooden ceiling and the greenery tucked here and there in the soft curves, spilling out their freshness into the dark air. His hands plucked distractedly at the blankets, and he glanced briefly at the untouched tray of food on his beside table, finding it as unappetizing as he had earlier, when it was still fresh and hot. It seemed that lately even sugar turned to ashes in his mouth.

Tei'rn gritted his teeth and swung himself out of bed, dumping his blankets onto the floor with little heed. Then he stopped, and looked again at the pile of bedding, reminded of what had woken him so suddenly. That had been his last day, the last time he had spent a morning with his brother, the last time he had climbed the pulpit rock. He could still clearly recall how the early light from the red sun had tinted his sister's short-cropped pale-purple hair.

He crossed to the window, fingering his braid and thinking of that. Kist'ry had cut her hair, as some women and men did when they lost their spouses, as a sign that she would never re-marry. Mev'ln, who had served the earth-god Son'nar, had done the same to indicate his vow to use his life to strive only for the ideals of his god, a life that he refused to ever let be cluttered with the concerns of wife and family.

He leaned against the little window in his small room, pulling his braid over his shoulder so he could look at it. The shifting colors shone dully in the dim light. It would be so easy. A small slash of the sword that Yosho had given him, and that now lay with his tiny bundle of belongings, and he would be bound by a similar vow.

After all, if he didn't have Ayeka, he didn't want anyone.

He had half made up his mind and was turning to retrieve the convenient weapon when it seemed that he heard a small voice in his ear. 'Hig'nu, don't give up.'

His shoulders slumped, and he said, "Yes, my sister," to the darkness without, even while the darkness within grew ever deeper.

He spent the rest of the night staring out the window, his pale face illuminated by the stars, and nothing else.

…

"Aidar? Aidar, are you all right?"

Something shook the Policeman's shoulder and he looked around. Upon seeing Lieutenant Mihoshi's concerned face, he let his own relax into a reassuring smile.

"Oh, good." Mihoshi said as though he had replied. "You were staring off into space like that, I thought you had seen something."

Aidar smiled again at her retreating back, affection lighting his dark eyes. She really was a sweet child, he thought, if hopelessly clumsy. He turned off all but the main screens and leaned back with a sigh. He wasn't unaware of her regard for him, but as much as he liked her, he had other responsibilities. He stood, and for a moment his long, dark hair seemed to flow around his shoulders, moving on its own, as though it were being caressed by a soft breeze.

He stretched as he stood, feeling the unfamiliar confines of his form with something like curiosity not un-flavored with a light dislike. He would have rather his physical form were free, as it usually was. But when his cousin had taken physical form as a human, his interest had been piqued, and he chose one of his planets to hail from.

Creating a false back-history, after all, was no problem for a god…

Still, he wondered if he was meddling too much. He wasn't an expert on how the mortal mind worked, and was thus unsure of the effects his touch was having. He at least hoped that the boy found his dreams reassuring, a breath of home from long ago and far away.

Aidar took a note of his disobedient hair, and tamed it with a thought.

"Mihoshi, it's your shift." He said quietly, though his voice carried to her ears.

Mihoshi bounded out of the quarters a moment later. "I left coffee on the table, Aidar," She tripped over the threshold, and he deftly caught her, setting her back on her feet and moving a few paces away. "Sorry." She blushed.

He smiled at her again, blessing his infinite patience.

…

Tei'rn opened his eyes after the golden light deposited him onto the planet that had given Ai'ka birth. It was all so GREEN. Green everywhere he looked, pure water, blue sky, but still that ever-pervasive green of the gigantic trees and vast lawns of verdant grasses. He blinked a few times just to let all that color settle into his skull, and found himself facing two people he'd never met before yet seemed hauntingly familiar. Azusa coughed from beside him, and he looked at the king, just noticing that he was there.

The darker woman perhaps did not know how good his hearing was when she whispered aside to her…sister-wife? But he could hear every word of the exchange.

"A rather colorless young man, I must say." She murmured.

"He is rather pale," The fairer one answered, "We must make sure to feed him up, then he'll look healthier."

The darker one looked askance at the other woman. "Well, that too."

Azusa gave him a none-too-gentle nudge to incite him to approach the two women.

"My wives. Queen Funaho, and Queen Misaki Jurai." He said formally.

Tei'rn summoned up what resolve he had and walked forward to greet the two queens. When he had heard that Yo'zo had a different mother than Za'za'mi and Ai'ka, he had assumed that Yo'zo's mother had died, as his had. But it appeared that he had been mistaken.

He stopped when the king did, a few paces away from the women, one dark as Yo'zo, the other with hair the same color as Za'za'mi, and bowed slightly. "Peace to you wives of the king. I am Tei'rn Chandir." He abbreviated his name for convenience. "I am pleased to meet you and to be made welcome on your beautiful planet."

The two women seemed to be examining him minutely, from the color-shifting hair on his head, to the translator on his ear, to the tips of his boots. The one called Fu'nho had an inscrutable look on her face, while the one called Miz'ki seemed to be quivering with eagerness to make his acquaintance. He kissed his fist and touched it to his heart, bowing again.

This seemed to burst something in the fairer queen's resolve and she leapt forward. He moved back a step, but was no match for her speed as she embraced him. He could almost swear he heard his ribs creak as her arms tightened by notches. He began to become alarmed, but made no struggle.

"Oh, you poor, dear boy! I can't imagine what it must be like…oh no! I'm sure you don't want to talk about it, but if you ever do, I'm here for you, day or night! Rain or shine, though it usually rains at night, doesn't interfere then with… You're so thin!" She gave him another bone-crunching squeeze and he felt as though his head were going to rattle off his shoulders. "It's terrible! Has my husband been keeping food from you?"

At this she shot the king a look so venomously vile that Tei'rn, still clasped in her arms could feel the sharp edges of it. "No, no…of course he wouldn't do that." Her mood changed abruptly once again. "Have you been sick, space travel not agree with you? Oh, it must bring back such terrible memories! I'm sorry, please forgive me."

"Yes, of course." Tei'rn managed to croak with what breath was left in his lungs.

"I'm so glad! I've been longing to meet you ever since my little Ayeka sent word that you were coming here. How is my little Ayeka? And my little Sasami, she must be a young woman by now!" She sobbed, tears running down her face, "And her mommy is so far away! But here I am talking about my babies to you while you need a decent meal." She released him momentarily, but even before Tei'rn could take a breath of relief, she shifted her hold and was now practically towing him towards the palace.

He flailed as he tried to gain his feet, his wild silver eyes meeting the dark ones of the other queen. She merely shrugged helplessly and followed the overly affectionate Misaki and her newest hapless victim, leaving Azusa standing on the landing deck, a defeated slump to his shoulders.

…

Kyokki sat up in the darkness of early morning, when the birds were just beginning their first serenade. She rubbed her eyes and looked over at her husband, who she knew would wake in a few moments. Humans were such creatures of habit, she thought affectionately as she lay back down beside him and snuggled against his shoulder.

One thing she couldn't get over was how nice he smelled. It could have just come from regular bathing, but more than that was the scent of him. It delighted her as always as she nuzzled the smooth skin of his neck, taking this momentary respite from how stressful the days had been lately. He smiled in his sleep and turned over, gathering her in his arms as his eyes, the color of rich port wine, opened into hers.

"Good morning, my darling." She smiled in return. Focusing herself completely upon him, their troubles stayed away a few moments longer. Then the spell was over, and he released her and sat up, running his fingers through his long, black hair. She sat up beside him and they both looked out into the morning. A mutual sigh escaped their lungs. Another day.

Yosho leaned over and gave her a soft morning kiss, then stood, and she sat there a moment more, appreciating the smooth expanse of his back as he dressed. And she wondered, as she had wondered every morning since she had met him, if today was the day. She needed to tell him, she had to. There was no use in putting it off any longer.

She opened her mouth then shut it again, even while chastising herself over her cowardice. But how does one tell her husband that she is a goddess?

…

The door changed subtly, so much so that at first no one really noticed. For more than a year now it had been an ordinary door, leading into nothing more than an ordinary broom closet, filled with boxes, dust, cleaning implements and the occasional spider. Before that it was what it was now, a door to the realm of a genius, a scientific genius to be more specific. To be even more specific, it was now the door onto the laboratory of the self-proclaimed Greatest Scientific Genius in the Universe, Washu Hakubi.

It was Sasami who first noticed the change, though if Mihoshi had been home then in the natural order of things she would have been the one to stumble through, likely breaking something in the process, and generally getting into Washu's, or as she liked to be addressed, Little Washu's, spiky red hair…

Sasami hurriedly put down the broom that she was about to return to its usual place and knocked on the extraordinary door. Then she smiled in delight as Washu's face appeared in the small window and said, "Come in." The young princess pushed open the door and entered, a smile, which had been noticeably absent from her usually cheerful mien, spread across her face.

"Washuuuuu!" She cried as soon as she saw the diminutive scientist, throwing herself into the other girl's arms. As Sasami was now taller than the perpetual 12-year old, this had the effect of promptly knocking Washu down. Washu chuckled and smoothed the girl's hair as Sasami clung to her and whimpered.

"There, there." Washu murmured, "Tell me what's wrong. What's been happening since I've been away?"

Then ensued a run-down of all the events of the year, a great deal of the recent events couched in desperate hyperbole and self-recrimination.

The telling took quite a bit of time, and by the end of it the two of them were on the floor sitting face to face. She finally concluded with, "I should have known she had said something like that. She didn't know about the Right of Hospitality, but I think she may of still done it if she did. And I didn't know! I should have said something to him, reversed it, then he wouldn't be gone." Sasami sighed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "And now Ayeka's going around pretending that everything is all right but I can see that she's bleeding inside. It's like she's trying to ignore it until eventually she shrivels up and dies. I can't bear watching it, Washu! I just can't!" then she collapsed in tears onto Washu's lap and the little scientist closed her eyes in thought as she once again comforted the princess as best she could.

Meanwhile, Ayeka was looking over her garden. It looked rather neglected, she thought. But then that could've been because since Tenchi returned she hadn't had as much time to tend to it. Or it could have been because the weather had been so hot and damp lately. Or it could have been because…because of…

A cold hard something clamped down on her insides, and she turned away from the patch of flowers that was rapidly getting overrun with weeds. She just didn't feel like working there anymore. She really couldn't remember what it was she had found so comforting about tending a bunch of plants and watching them flourish under her care.

The elder princess absently rubbed her damp palms on the skirt of her kimono, looking up into the blistering sunlight. It was really too hot to be outside, after all. She wondered where all those cool breezes of earlier in the season had gone to. On Jurai they had weather controls, so it didn't really get too hot or too cold, and it rarely rained during the day unless the technicians wanted it to. She wondered how he liked…how…

There was that cold feeling again.

Ayeka turned on her heel in a jerky, angry movement, striding off toward the lake with the air of one who would not hesitate to barrel right through the first person or thing that got in her way. Wisely, nothing did.

Ryoko watched her from the window, one finger thoughtfully tapping her bottom lip.

"This can't go on…"

It may be noted, at this time, that it was not Ryoko who spoke, it should also be noted that jumping through an open window on the second story of any building is not a good idea. This, however, was what Ryoko did. It was fortunate that she could fly. The oni turned in mid-air and shot a wrathful look at the owner of the voice.

"And when did YOU decide to come back?" She demanded of her 'mother'.

Washu leaned out the window, ignoring her. Instead her eyes were on Ayeka, who was standing at the shore of the lake looking out at the water, which had a metallic look in the summer heat.

"Just this morning. And none too soon, it seems." The diminutive scientist finally replied.

Ryoko phased back through the wall, still glowering at the red-head. "Yeah, now you decide to show up. You've been filled in, I suppose?"

"Sasami told me." Washu nodded, turning away from the window and fixing her daughter with a measuring stare. "And I see that married life is agreeing with you. You've put on a few pounds."

"I…I have not!"

"You're pregnant, then?"

"No!" Ryoko was rapidly turning beet red, and Washu could nearly see the steam pouring out of her ears, so she figured it was time to stop.

"Back to the matter at hand," She continued, turning and walking towards the stairs, letting the seething woman drift in her wake, "I wasn't too surprised to find that he had landed here."

"You mean that 'Tern' guy?" Ryoko shrugged. "I wasn't here, but I guess he hit the mountain dead-on. You can still see the spot…"

"And doesn't that seem odd to you?" Washu commented, "That he would land here, of all the places on Earth?"

"Well, no. That just seems to be the way these things usually work." Ryoko shrugged.

Washu looked down to the living room, where Tenchi was sitting and talking earnestly to his grandfather. Kyokki was standing behind Yosho, her arms folded as she listened seriously to what the young man was saying. She glanced up just as Washu's feet touched the planks of the first floor.

"Washu," the woman smiled. "Welcome home. Tenchi was just telling us that you wanted to talk to us all."

"Yes, I did." Washu replied as Sasami exited from the kitchen with a tray containing a pot of tea and several cups.

When they were all seated, or standing, or floating as the case may be, Washu took a deep breath. "All right, everyone, I've heard what has been happening while I was away…" Just then there came what could judiciously be called a knock on the door. It was more of a crash, and a moment later Mihoshi almost tumbled in, saved from mashing her face on the floorboards by an expressionless Aidar holding a fistful of the back of her uniform.

"We're back!" She announced with a little wave while righting herself with Aidar's help.

"We see." Ryoko murmured.

Mihoshi then noticed Washu. "Oh, you're back too! How wonderful!"

"Yes, yes. Hello, Mihoshi." Washu said tiredly. "Good to see you again, Aidar." She continued with more feeling. She knew she had him to thank for saving quite a few delicate pieces of equipment in her lab when he had first become Mihoshi's partner.

Aidar bowed, his mouth curling up in the barest of grins.

Then as he straightened, Kyokki caught his eye and jerked her head to the side. He moved to her and they spent a moment in quiet conversation before he bowed to the assembled company again and exited.

After he left Tenchi piped up. "Don't you think he should hear this, too? He is involved."

"It isn't necessary." Kyokki told him kindly, resuming her place behind the couch. "If need be, I'll fill him in later. But for right now, we need someone to keep Ayeka occupied." Tenchi didn't look entirely satisfied but nodded anyways.

"So what are we talking about?" Mihoshi asked as she plopped down on the couch beside Washu.

"Tei'rn." Sasami said sadly, "And Ayeka."

"Oh," for a moment event he exuberant blond looked downcast. It had not failed to escape even her notice that there was something very wrong going on involving those two people.

"Right, then." Washu continued with an air of someone physically pulling the conversation back on track. "You all know that Tei'rn is from a planet called Seta'ka? A planet that was destroyed about eight years ago?" Everyone nodded. "Well, the reason it took me so long to get back is because the Science Academy invited me to come with them to investigate this phenomena. They had been observing this planet for quite a few years, ever since it became capable of deep space travel. But it was never approached because," She held up one finger, "Even though they had deep space capable crafts they never went out of their own solar system and," She held up a second finger, "the reason for this was because they were nearly constantly at war. Chances were any vessel that tried to leave, or enter, the atmosphere would be vaporized without question."

"I didn't know it was so bad there." Tenchi said softly.

"There was a brief period of peace about a hundred years ago, but then the fighting started again before they could be approached." Washu continued. "So since we were curious, we found out what happened." She paused. "It did have potential, it would've solved a lot of problems if it had worked. But it didn't and the malfunction took the whole planet with it." She noted Kyokki slowly stiffening, her fingers digging into the couch cushions behind Yosho's shoulders.

"It ended in a storm of fire and earth. They had developed equipment that would enable them to tap into the core of their planet. They needed the energy badly, almost all their other resources were used up and they were too busy fighting to find new ones outside Seta'ka. It backfired." She looked as though she were itching to explain to them the exact mechanics of said backfire, but restrained herself with an effort. "The core was already…"

"Unstable, it was unstable, and the priests of the fire knew it. But the priests of the earth convinced them that it would be a manageable circumstance." They all turned to look at Kyokki, whose face was set into tight lines of anger and grief. "We had given them all they needed to save themselves, but they ignored him. Son'nar and that priest of his." Her voice was leaden.

"Ky'oi." Yosho whispered. He stood and faced her, his face stern. "It's you, isn't it? I knew it sounded…" He threw up his hands and turned away.

"Yes." She got up on her knees on the back of the sofa and cautiously laid her hands on his shoulders, leaning her forehead against his warm back. "And I couldn't…forgive me for not telling you. Please."

The two stayed like that for a long moment, seemingly oblivious to their shocked audience.

"Did you not trust me?" He said grimly. "Did you not think I could handle the fact that you are a…a goddess? Kyokki!" He whirled; catching her as she began to fall forward from the loss of the support his body had given her. She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide and pleading for him to understand, to realize that he too had had secrets to keep, reasons to conceal his true identity. His dark purple eyes stared into hers, accusing, then they softened.

"Did she really say 'goddess'?" Tenchi murmured up to Ryoko during the brief silence. His wife nodded.

"Do you still love me?" The red-haired woman asked in a small voice. She had never looked less like a goddess than at that moment. He shook his head while pulling her against him. She relaxed and twined her arms around his back.

"Always." He whispered into her ear. "But we'll talk more about this later."

Washu cleared her throat, snapping the others out of their shock, at both the revelation and the scene that had just been played out between their ostensible elders.

"You could've just told them all this, then." Washu said pointedly.

"A goddess!" Mihoshi squealed. "That's so amazing! Tell me, wh…"

"Mihoshi, don't change the subject." Yosho chided gently.

"It wasn't necessary." Kyokki shrugged, glancing at Sasami past Yosho's ear. She had been very still through the whole conversation. "And I didn't want to have to live through the whole thing again."

"Shall I continue?" Washu asked.

"Please."

"So in any case, I was quite surprised to find, after much examination of the debris, a faint trail made by one of their ships, heading off into space. It must've been a miracle that it had made it out unscathed. And that made me think that it may have been one person, one whom we had studied extensively. We didn't know his name, never went close enough, but we knew what he was." She took a sip of her tea. "A planet-builder."

"A what, now?" Ryoko asked from her beam where she had been pretending to ignore the discourse.

"That was why there was a peace so abruptly about one hundred years ago. He had been born…" She turned to Kyokki. "Do you think you could explain this?"

Kyokki, who had settled comfortably next to Yosho on the couch, her hand in his, sent another glance towards Sasami. She looked back at Washu, "He was the result of a controlled breeding program we, that is the other gods and I, had been cultivating since we first knew that the planet was in trouble. By careful manipulation of the bloodlines –a difficult thing since the Seta'kians rarely married for anything but love, we had to give them little pushes – we were able to produce one being that could wield an ancient instrument called the 'Bifuukoe' or the Wind-player. He had inherent power, but in order for it to be wielded properly he had to use the instrument as a channel. You should see what happens when he sings."

"What happens?" Washu asked curiously, her fingers poised as though to type on an invisible keyboard.

"It creates." She held her hands out, moving them as though she molded dough between her palms, "The wind-player just uses what it already there, manipulating and purifying, but when he sings, things pop out of nothingness, he could MAKE a whole planet just out of his thoughts. It was a positive fiasco when he was eight years old and they tested him out. You don't want to know what can happen if an eight-year-old's thoughts become reality, believe me. So they told him he should never, ever, sing again. I believe he took that to heart. In fact, I don't think he knows what he can really do if he puts his mind to it."

"I can see that," Washu murmured understandingly. Her fingers made a few more ticks on the keyboard that had appeared under them. She didn't think it would be in the best interest for anyone else to know about that either. "So I believed that if anyone could have made it out of there it would've been him. And imagine my surprise when I found the trail making a beeline for these coordinates." She looked up at Kyokki. "Someone guided him here."

"Not me." Kyokki said quietly, "I hadn't known he'd survived until I saw him with my own eyes." She restrained herself from looking at Sasami with an effort.

"And now he's in the hands of the Juraian empire." Washu shook her head. "Tsk."

…

Tei'rn stuck a finger under the collar of his shirt and tugged a bit, trying to adjust it. He didn't mind too terribly the clothing that Miz'ki had picked out for him; they were colorful, at least. He had trouble caring about anything much nowadays, anyway. But what he couldn't understand was why there had to be so many layers to it. He felt confined and restricted by cloth.

He sighed and turned away from the mirror, exiting his rooms and closing the door behind him. The grounds of the royal Juraian university were nearly empty. Most of the students were in their classes or working on projects for their research. He felt himself at loose ends as he wandered down a colonnade. They had talked to him, somewhat, about Seta'ka. But it seemed that they already knew a lot about it. He wondered how that was in a disconnected way.

By the time he reached the end of the line of columns, he could feel himself being followed. He sighed. They were very unobtrusive about it, but there was no way they could expect him to not be aware of his 'shadows', guards who followed him wherever he went.

He stopped by an ornamental fountain and stared up at the water that cascaded from the sculpture. It looked a bit like Ayeka, holding a cistern upon her shoulder. Cupped in the other hand was a tiny stone seedling of a tree, perfect in every detail. The 'shadows' waited a short distance away.

"Who was she?" He asked them.

To their credit they did not give any hint of discomfiture at his acknowledgement.

"The Great-Grandmother of Emperor Azusa" one replied. He was tall with red hair and violet eyes. He had a pleasant voice. "She had the distinction of uniting the warring regions of Quizkin and Or'ket together under Juraian rule."

Tei'rn nodded distractedly. "What is your name, guard?"

"Kamidake." The man replied with a bow.

"I am pleased to meet you, Kamidake." Tei'rn saluted him while thinking the name sounded a bit familiar. "And thank you."

"I am grateful for your thanks, but what am I being thanked for?"

"For speaking to me as if I were not an ignorant man." Tei'rn sighed and turned to him. "I may not know much about the workings of an empire, but that doesn't mean I am incapable of learning. Thank you."

Kamidake exchanged a glance with the other guard, who was stockier and had silver hair and gray-green eyes. "We regret that you have been made to feel this way." He hesitated. "If I may suggest, we could show you around and tell you more."

"Companions rather than shadows?" Tei'rn smiled briefly. "I would like that."

"Then, Master Tei'rn, may I suggest the atrium first."

"Lead on, friend Kamidake and friend…?"

"Azaka." The stockier one answered.

"Friend Azaka, then." Tei'rn smiled. "Shall we?"

The two exchanged one more glance, and Azaka shrugged and nodded. The two had been partners for a long time, and some thoughts were communicated between them without more than a look. They both thought, looking at Tei'rn eyes when he smiled, that here may be the loneliest man in the universe. And the two of them, being good men, would try to help ease a bit of that loneliness.

"It's this way, Mas…" Kamidake started.

"Just Tei'rn, please."

"Very well, Tei'rn."

…

"So what do we do?" asked Mihoshi after they had spoken for a while longer on what having Tei'rn would mean for the Empire of Jurai.

"Good question." Washu acknowledged.

She looked at Kyokki, who shrugged helplessly, still looking a bit downcast over her confrontation with her husband earlier. Thus Washu's attention was drawn to Yosho, who had walked to the window, thoughtfully looking out at the lake. He was turning something in his hands. Washu looked closer. "Is that what I think it is, Yosho?"

He turned, and now all could see what he had been holding. Sasami gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth. "He…but how…that's…!"

"Yes," Yosho said sadly. "I found it in his room just this morning."

"I think…that this may be the key to the answer we were looking for."

Heads turned to Ryoko, their faces, without exception, questioning.

"It's time," she continued, "That me and that pampered princess had it out."

"Oh, dear." Washu murmured.

…

Tei'rn paused in the hallway outside the dining room of the personal quarters of the royal family. Miz'ki had taken to inviting him over for meals, during which she fussed over him like a mother bird. Raised voices issued forth, and he took a step back, preparing to make a quick exit and come back when they were lowered again. But then his sensitive ears caught Ai'ka's name, and he paused.

"…Get her away from there, right away." That was Azusa's voice. "Still mooning over the grandson of that good-for-nothing son of mine. But now that that…"

"Nice young man…" He heard Fu'nko say calmly.

"Not the word I was looking for!" Azusa bellowed. "Now that he's here… he was supposed to be sent to the academy, why is he still loitering around the palace? Now even if I bring her home, HE'LL be here, and who knows what fool ideas she'll get."

"Husband!" Miz'ki interrupted angrily. "I don't care how you feel, but I happen to like him a great deal more than YOUR choices."

Azusa seemed to backpedal a bit at his queen's tone, "All our children need to be brought under heel, I don't know how they got the idea that they could do as they pleased. What will happen to the empire once I'm gone, that's what I'd like to know, with all my heirs on some backwater planet. Falling in love," he invested the words with a great deal of scorn, "with completely unsuitable people."

Tei'rn unfroze himself and walked out of the palace, his feet taking him back to his room, where he went in and shut the door firmly behind him.

His two shadows and companions looked at each other.

"I feel sorry for him." Kamidake said.

"We really shouldn't get ourselves involved." Azaka said stoically. "But I agree. I imagine it's hard enough being in a strange place without getting involved in the politics of the royal family."

"I'm glad I'm just a guard." Kamidake sighed, leaning on his staff.

"Yes."

The two of them took up their posts outside their charge's room, and lapsed into silence.

Inside, Tei'rn sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. And he thought longingly of home, and its two scarlet suns.

…

It was dark by the time Ayeka returned to her room that night. Aidar had been unusually talkative that day, and while she enjoyed his company normally she would much rather have been alone. She closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she noticed something amiss, something with golden glowing eyes. It was sitting on Sasami's futon.

"Ryoko! What are you doing in my room? Leave at once." She demanded, hitting the switch for the lights with unnecessary force. As they switched on, she noticed that Ryoko was not alone. Tenchi sat beside her, his face serious.

A hundred thoughts raced through Ayeka's mind. Were they here to tell her that they had finally decided that she…? Would she be able to be with Tenchi after all? Strangely, that thought passed through her consciousness with an almost academic air, having no feeling following it up. She frowned.

"Ayeka." And now Tenchi was standing, looking at her. "We need to talk."

Ayeka knew that very rarely was anything good ever said after those words were uttered. But this was Tenchi. Even if he said things she didn't want to hear he was still near her, with his kind warm eyes.

"What is it, Tenchi?"

"We," Ryoko interjected, "Need to talk as well."

Ayeka scowled at her. "I don't think I need to hear anything you have to say to me."

"I doubt that." Ryoko said calmly. "I think you need to hear every single word I say to you. I think you need to actually LISTEN. You seem to have a problem doing that. I don't think you've ever listened to anyone in your entire life, Princess. Well, I think it's time you started."

Tenchi took over. "Ayeka. I've tried to be kind about this, but I need to just say it out. I chose Ryoko. I choose Ryoko. I'm sorry but she is my wife, and I don't intend to ever, please listen, ever take another. You need to move on."

"Are you telling me to leave, Tenchi?" Ayeka asked, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"If that's what it takes for you to live your own life, Ayeka. I think that it may be best." Tenchi walked to the door. "Please, I don't want you to waste your life on me, Ayeka. You deserve better than that." He walked out, sliding the door shut behind him.

"Tenchi!" Ayeka cried, beginning to rise, to rush to him.

"He won't talk to you if you go after him." Ryoko's voice stopped her.

She turned, rage coloring her face. "This is all YOUR fault!" She started towards the former pirate, murder in her eyes. Ryoko just sat there, still as calm as she had been.

"Did it hurt?"

Ayeka stopped dead.

"Did it hurt to be told to leave by someone you love?"

"Of course it hurts! What a stupid question."

"Really, I thought maybe it wouldn't." Ryoko said nastily. "It certainly seemed that way."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"That Tern guy," Ryoko continued, examining her nails.

"Te…" Ayeka felt a rush of pain in her stomach at the mention of that name. But that was just because she missed him, as she…had missed Ten…would miss a member of her family. But she hadn't heard his name in so long. She hadn't even thought it because with those thoughts came painful emotions that she couldn't acknowledge.

"I still don't…"

"You really don't, do you." Ryoko nodded. "Ah, I thought so. You were just leading the poor guy on, huh?" She clapped a companionable hand on Ayeka's shoulder. "Fun, was it?"

"Fun?" Ayeka's hand curled into claws.

"Well, obviously he wasn't up to your caliber. Couldn't even speak right with all those weird clicks. Bet you were laughing at him all that time while making him fall for you." Ryoko laughed too.

"He…fell for me?" Ayeka whispered, but Ryoko was going on as though she hadn't spoken.

"So how long was it before you got him to sleep with you? He has a nice body for what I've seen of it, except all those scars. But then you'd know more about that… If it weren't for Tenchi, I might've gone after him myself."

Ayeka blushed despite her growing anger.

"Big hands, small brain. I used to go for guys like that." Ryoko eyed Ayeka carefully, judging her reactions. "Bet he puts those hands to good use, doesn't he? It's rare to find a man who likes a small-breasted woman, but when they like 'em small they REALLY like 'em, I bet you know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't!" Ayeka shrieked, "And don't you dare talk about him that way!"

"I bet you used him...ALL of him. Was it nice having someone to kiss... you know." She winked brazenly. "Put his mouth to good use, eh?"

At that all of Ayeka's self-control, tenuous already, snapped, and she flung herself at the pirate. Ryoko caught her hands as the Princess attempted to pummel her. They were trembling.

"And he's not stupid," She cried, tears rolling down her face. "He's SMART! And he's really kind! How dare you! How dare you!"

Ryoko rolled, not releasing Ayeka's hands and pinned her to the futon below her. "No princess, how dare YOU." Ayeka struggled in vain to get loose. "He felt what you did, you know, when you told him to go. Didn't it hurt? Don't you want to scream with it?"

"You're wrong!"

"Am I?"

"Yes," Ayeka was sobbing now. "How could he have loved me? How could anyone love me? He was better off going before he could find that out."

"You really believe that?"

Ayeka heaved up and managed to reverse their positions, although she could not break Ryoko's grip on her wrists. She lifted the pirate up a few inches with the force of her fury and slammed her back down against the cushions. "How could I not! Everyone I've ever loved has left me! How could he be any different?"

"So you did love him." Ryoko said quietly and calmly, "You stupid, arrogant, pampered princess!"

"No, I didn't say that!" Ayeka's tears spattered the other woman's face as she shook her head wildly in denial. "Tenchi! I love Tenchi!"

"You still cling to that, like a baby with its blanket. You're a child, Ayeka." Ryoko levitated the two of them up and slammed Ayeka against the wall. "But when a small child hurts someone, it's unintentional, they don't know any better." The words were spoken, fast and hot next to Ayeka's ear. "And they're easily forgiven. But will he forgive you, Ayeka? Do you think he will?"

Ayeka said nothing, her eyes wide and blank as she stared past Ryoko's shoulder.

Ryoko released the princess, watching as she bonelessly slid down the wall to sit sprawled on the floor.

"Tell me, Princess, what you think is most precious to him?" Ryoko asked.

Ayeka whispered something.

"Say it again." She leaned close and caught the words this time. "His Wind-player?" She reached into her dress and pulled something out, throwing it contemptuously into Ayeka's lap. "Strange you should say that. I would think it was something else." Then she turned and left Ayeka alone in her room.

Ryoko paused outside the door, running her hands over her cyan hair.

"Ryoko." Tenchi emerged from the shadows in the hall. "Well?"

"I think it worked." Ryoko laughed shakily. "Of course, not sure if Ayeka will want to talk to me for a while."

Tenchi smiled "Sometimes kindness hurts the most." He took her arm, tucking it into his as they walked down the stairs to where the others were waiting.

…

Tei'rn's door opened just enough to allow someone to dart through, then closed again.

He turned from the mirror where he had been brushing out his hair and saw Misaki leaning against it, panting. He stood up, one hand gathering his hair at the nape of his neck, the other pushing his chair back. "Miz'ki?"

She held up a hand for him to wait, and took a few more deep breaths. Then she straightened. "My husband will be here in a minute. He doesn't look pleased, but I'm not sure what's the matter."

"Have I done something wrong?"

"Of course not, unless…" She gave Tei'rn a piercing look.

"Yes?"

"Have you gotten one of my daughters with child!"

"WHAT!" Tei'rn's hands fell limp at his sides as his brain seized up in pure astonishment. His hair fell loose about his shoulders.

"How beautiful!" Misaki chirped, rushing over to him before he could react and stroking her hands down his loose hair as though he were a cat, watching it shift colors under her fingers. "Why on Jurai do you keep it bound?"

Tei'rn twisted loose with a sinuous movement that surprised the queen. "It is…not proper." He stammered, feeling somewhat violated. He turned his back to hide his blush as he quickly wove his hair into its accustomed plait.

"But why not?" Asked the queen with terrible persistence.

"It is… not something to discuss in front of the opposite gender." Tei'rn kept his back to her as he edged around the room. "Except one's wife, of course."

Misaki's face insinuated itself into his horrified vision. "Oh, you can tell me…"

"Shouldn't we be more worried about why your husband is coming here looking unhappy?" He said desperately.

Her arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight. "Why, we're practically family!" She purred. He gulped, but her arms kept tightening. They were loving pincers, squeezing off all feeling below his ribcage.

"Alright! Alright." He leaned over and whispered in her ear, blushing furiously the whole time.

Misaki's eyes widened. "Really? That sensitive?"

Tei'rn nodded, wishing he could find a hole to bury himself in.

"And when you…"

"Yes! Please, by all the gods stop talking about it!" He whimpered. He again thought longingly about burial as she started to giggle. And he found himself blessing the relief of angry pounding at his door. He quickly turned his back on the merrily giggling queen and opened the door.

"It's good to see you," He said with feeling.

This temporarily stopped the emperor in his tracks. Rarely was anyone happy to see him. He checked to make sure that he was still frowning then barged past the young man into his room. Misaki burst into laughter at the sight of him, causing another pause.

"What's so funny?" He demanded, but his queen just shook her head, still chuckling. "This is no laughing matter." Misaki waved her hand at him helplessly and he gave up. He turned to Tei'rn, who had the oddest look on his face as he listened to the queen. A lot of the steam had gone out of the Emperor by this time, and he was unable to put quite as much menace into his voice as he had intended. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?" Tei'rn asked.

"The Bifuukoe!" Azusa bellowed.

Tei'rn's face froze. "The Wind-player is someplace safe."

"Don't give me that! I am the emperor and I deman…" He stopped as a hand gripped his arm. He looked down to see his queen's hand. He let his gaze follow up her arm to her face, which was set into a very sweet, very frightening smile. "I mean…I wish that you would kindly tell me where it is."

"Please." Misaki said with sweet menace.

"Please." Azusa said gruffly.

Tei'rn turned away. "What was most precious to me, I left behind on Earth." He turned again, and Misaki's face softened in sympathy at the look she saw on his face. "The Wind-player is with her."

…

Ayeka stared at the object Ryoko had tossed in her lap, unable to believe what she was seeing. She reached out a hesitant finger to touch it; then drew back as her fingertip brushed the silky wood. It was real.

"But why, Tern?" She murmured. "Why?"

She picked the Wind-player up, holding it as gently as she would a bird egg or a delicate bloom. Tears again welled in the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She was unable to stop them as they dampened the skirt of her kimono.

Now what was it he showed her? She moved her hands slightly, there and there, hiccupping through her tears as she remembered the touch of his slender fingers guiding hers what seemed like so long ago.

How could she have been so blind?

She raised the Wind-player to her lips and her note sang, like it did that day, wavering in and out, but true. Then the note changed, drawing on something, and rang out like a bell into the night air. Then more notes joined it, weaving in and out around her note, the sound nearly forming a picture in the air around her head. She opened her eyes wide as the song twined around her mind, singing to her in its own special language.

This was her song. She could see herself in the music. It was so beautiful that she could hardly hear it with her ears, but with her heart instead. The music had color, texture, taste.

This was how he saw her.

As the last note rang out then faded, she knew what she had to do.

…

Washu looked up as her crab-shaped door chime flew through the air past her ear. She turned to see Ayeka standing the doorway. In one hand the princess held the Wind-player, on her face was a look of desperate resolve.

"Washu. I need a ship." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "And a bucket."

Washu kept her small smile hidden as she turned back to her keyboard, tapping a few more keys before banishing it and standing up. "I'm coming with you."

It didn't take long for them to get ready to go, which probably would have raised Ayeka's suspicions if she hadn't been so focused on something else. She didn't even raise an eyebrow when Washu collected Sasami, some of the Princess's belongings and the two guardians from the gate, where they had been cultivating a healthy growth of moss. She just waited impatiently on Washu's small ship, hovering over a cask of water and cradling Tei'rn's Wind-player in her arms.

Finally Washu had everything in order and she settled into her chair before the controls. "Ready?" She asked Ayeka, who was sitting beside her beaming sister.

"I am now. I'm finally ready." She smiled. "Take me to him, Washu."

Washu nodded, eased the ship out of its hyperspace pocket, and they left Earth behind them.

…

Tei'rn sat silently on the edge of the cistern of the fountain of Ai'ka's ancestor. He stared moodily into the water, watching the reflection of the sun send quivering lines of light dancing beneath the surface. He tried to keep his thoughts off of the king of Jurai, and his demands about the Wind-player. It had been precious to him. There was no doubt about that. But it had still contained something that had belonged to Ai'ka. And if he had it with him, he would have been tempted to listen to the song, and see Ai'ka in the music. It would have driven him mad.

He didn't pay any attention to the quick intake of breath made by Kamidake.

So when he had left behind Ai'ka, he had left behind the music as well. It had been his only choice.

He didn't see the movement behind him as Azaka bowed.

But then, perhaps madness would have been preferable, if it would have driven away this aching loneliness in his soul. When he closed his eyes, he saw her in the darkness behind his eyelids. When he dreamed, it would be of her touch, her voice, just her.

When the hand touched his shoulder he raised his head but did not turn around.

He knew the feel, the weight of that hand. He knew the warmth; he knew the scent of that skin. He blinked a few times to assure himself that he was not still in bed, and dreaming a glorious, but eventually painful dream. His own hand reached up and covered the small delicate one resting on him, making sure it was real.

It did not vanish beneath his fingers. His eyes widened in disbelief, but he was afraid to turn around. He looked into the water once again, and saw two scarlet suns shining up at him past his shoulder.

"Tern."

He whirled, half-rising, his hand still clutching hers at though it were a lifeline. Without thinking he released her hand and cupped her face in his fingers, examining it minutely. Her hair rested silkily against his palms as he stood there for a long minutes, just absorbing her with his eyes.

"Tern." The specter said in a voice that had haunted his waking thoughts and sleepless nights.

He opened his mouth, and did not recognize the voice that emerged, squeezed from somewhere deep in his chest. "Ai…"

But then her hands were touching his face, one trailing across his lips to hold his words inside. Then her hands were taking his, and she turned, beckoning him to follow with merely a smile as she led him away.

Tei'rn's two guards watched mutely. Then they looked at each other.

"Shouldn't we follow?" Kamidake asked.

"I'd really rather you didn't." Came a sweet voice. And it was then that they noticed that Princess Ayeka had not come alone. Another young woman emerged from the shadow between two automated guardians, early models, with a smile and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I'll send Azaka and Kamidake after them."

"But we're Azaka and Kamidake…" Kamidake mumbled, and Azaka looked at him sharply.

"Really? What a coincidence! But I mean these two." She nodded at the guardians and they flew off. "They'll make sure that those two are not disturbed." She smiled brightly once again and Kamidake felt an inexplicable sense of warmth at the sight. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Sir Azaka and Sir Kamidake. But I must go and see my mother about something." Then she glided off in the direction of the palace.

Azaka sidled over and nudged Kamidake in the ribs, and he looked around as though he had just awoken. The guard blinked his violet eyes, "Did she say mother?" He looked after the young woman.

"I think that was the younger princess." Azaka said. "She's grown."

"Yes, yes…" Kamidake gulped. "She has. I think…yes…I think I'd better follow her. You'll look after Tei'rn…Yes…?" He raced after the departing princess without even waiting for an answer, his bright red hair snapping like a flag behind him.

"Ah, youth." Azaka said glumly as he went in the direction that the guardians had gone, but taking a more staid pace.

…

Azusa walked into his study after yet another frustrating day. The alien boy had been no help at all when he had pressed him again about the whereabouts of the Bifuukoe, saying only that it was with her. And if he meant that it was with his daughter, and if he thought that getting back the Bifuukoe meant getting his daughter as well, then, the boy had another thing coming. That was the last straw. No matter what his wife said he was shipping the boy off to the Academy. He had to put his foot down sometime.

"Well, well, you're finally here." He heard a voice say behind him. He froze. Then he turned very slowly. There was a child sitting at his desk, flipping through a few of the documents that he had left sitting there. "Very interesting reading you left for me, however. Very interesting indeed."

"Washu…" He began. He drew himself up. "How dare you break into my office? Those are classified!" He said more forcefully. He strode forward as she stood, slapping the offending file back down onto the desk.

"You shouldn't leave them sitting out, then." She grinned dangerously. "I had been wondering what you were up to when you stopped pestering me for the techniques to make your own Ryo-ohkis, and I now see why." She sat back down in his chair and kicked her feet up on the desk, leaving him seething. "Did you really think you could control it?"

He did not answer, making it obvious what he thought.

"It took the gods centuries to create one being that could control it, and you probably assumed you could pick it up and do whatever you wanted with it." She leaned forward. "You were wrong."

"It's just a tool." He scowled. "Anyone can learn to use a tool."

She laughed but there was little mirth behind it. "You can be a very foolish man." She smirked. "It takes the two together. The man, and the tool, as you put it."

"But our research…" He faltered.

"Was faulty." She patted the file on the desk. "The Bifuukoe is just a key, a funnel for the power contained in the man called Tei'rn. It is special, yes. Perhaps it is even one of a kind. But then so is he." She stood and walked to the window, lacing her fingers behind her back as she looked out. "A melding of four elements, able to control those elements." She looked over her shoulder. "The man paints the picture, not the brush that he holds in his hand."

Washu looked away again. "Such power he has. Did you know that the Bifuukoe is also a limiter…" There was silence behind her, "Yes, I thought not. You have in your hands a man who can terraform planets, but you knew that already. What you didn't know… is that he can create them as well."

She walked up to Azusa and grinned at him. It held as much warmth as the depths of space. "Such power you could have, but it could also be had by others if you don't act, if you don't make sure that he is irrevocably tied with your empire, faithful to only you. The bond is already there. All you have to do…is nothing."

"You're telling me to let him have my daughter." Azusa spluttered. "To have an unknown man eventually be one of the rulers of my empire!"

"But you'll still have a empire to rule, your majesty." She turned to the door. "Let Ayeka have the boy, and your empire will grow. If you do not." She smiled in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of Misaki's dire grin. "Well, let's just say I'll watch the proceedings with interest."

She opened the door, counting under her breath.

"Wait." Azusa said defeatedly. "About Ayeka…"

"Of course, your majesty." She said, turning to him again and shutting the door behind her. "I always have time to discuss the princess. She will of course be overjoyed that you approve of her marriage to this powerful man. It's a terrible thing for your own children to hate you, after all."

"Yes…" He sighed. "A terrible thing…I should, perhaps, speak with her directly. She is here?"

"Oh, yes." Washu smiled, and this time there was warmth there. "But I think she'll be a bit busy."

…

Ayeka led Tei'rn into a part of the palace that he had never entered before. He would not remember, being too absorbed in watching the sway of her hair as she led him on, back outside across a garden and finally into a wide room filled with warmth and the smell of soap. She sat him onto a small bench, then went back and closed the door. She stood there for a moment, looking unsure for the first time. Then she came to kneel before him, her hands going to the fastenings of his shirt. Carefully she peeled back the layers of clothing, removing the imprint of Jurai from his shoulders until his scarred torso was bared before her.

He shivered as she pulled the robes from his arms and discarded them in a pile on the floor. But still his eyes never left her. She sat before him, taking his braid and pulling it over his shoulder. Her eyes never leaving his she untied the ribbon that held his hair bound. His eyes widened in shock. Surely she didn't know what she was doing! It was impossible!

"Ai…" He began, but one hand rose delicately and pressed soft fingertips against his lips. He shivered in the grip of pleasure and disbelief as her fingers caressed and unwove his plait. He had to forcibly restrain himself to keep his hands to his sides when she rose on her knees to undo the last bit at the base of his neck, leaning close against his shoulder and filling the air with her sweet scent. His hair, finally loose, flowed over his shoulder and trailed along the floor like a sheet of finest silk, and she seemed to be admiring it, combing her hands through it to work out any tangles.

The sensation was again almost too much for him to bear as he closed his eyes with the pleasure of her hands in his hair. His own hands twitched with the desire to hold her close to him and never let her go again. When he opened his silver eyes again, she was looking at him. Unsure again, she glanced at the cask of water. He smiled and held out his cupped hands.

The princess's eyes brightened and she turned to the small cask that had been placed in the room. She cupped her hands and scooped out the water, holding it to him. She cleared her throat. "This…this water is…it's from the wellspring around my tree. It is royal Jurai water, the p…purest in the universe." She stuttered nervously.

His eyes locked on her face. She was blushing, a beautiful hue that was a paler version of her eyes. But she did not seem embarrassed, only, perhaps, feeling the same feelings that were coursing through him. Then he leaned forward and drank deeply from the water cupped in her hands. It was sweeter than wine and as pure as starlight. He leaned back again and nodded, his silver eyes soft upon her bent head as she sighed in relief.

Then Ayeka washed his hair, with careful, gentle hands. She did not seem to mind when the front of her dress became soaked with the water, or when she got a dash of bubbles on her cheek. She washed and rinsed and rinsed again, using all the water from the cask that she had brought from her own tree. His skin prickled at the coldness of the water as it dripped down his shoulders and his back, wetting the trousers she had not been brave enough to remove from him. Finally she was done.

She dried his iridescent and shining hair with the soft towels that had been stacked nearby, making sure it was completely dry before she bound it up again, her fingers weaving as she bit her lip in concentration. He watched her expression and could not help chuckling at the focus in her eyes.

She leaned back on her heels, waiting anxiously.

Tei'rn straightened up, stretching the cramped muscles in his back, it took a long time to wash as much hair as he had, stood and walked to a mirror to examine her handiwork. He did not glance back at her face, part of the tradition. You could not let the other person know what you thought until the waiting period was over.

He examined himself in the mirror, turning his head this way and that, then pulling the long plait over his shoulder to judge the evenness of the braid. The style she had used was rather more intricate than he could have managed on his own, with two thick strands left unbraided in front, but then looped back around his ears and joined with the rest of his mass of hair at the nape of his neck.

He turned, face serious, as she rose, nervously wringing her hands in front of the soaked bodice of her robes. "Tern, one thing I couldn't find out…" He walked towards her, stopping a few inches away, staring, silent. She seemed to be having difficulty finding breath to speak as she looked at him. "Tern, how long is the waiting period?"

He looked thoughtfully at her pale face. Her crimson eyes had tears at the corner. "It depends," He said softly. His hand stroked her flushed cheek. "I would say, in this case…perhaps, five seconds."

He smiled. And her face lit up with joy in reply. And they counted together. "Five, four, three, two, one."

Then he kissed her, and in that kiss all the passion that he had held to himself all the days that he had loved her made itself known.

She lowered her face and wept, whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Tern," into the pale skin of his chest, and he wiped away her tears before kissing her again, and again, his arms pulling her so close that they could feel their hearts begin to beat the same, and that was fast.

"Ai'ka." He whispered against the soft skin of her neck. "I love you."

She smiled as she pressed her cheek against his hair. "Tern, how would I say that to you, in your language?"

He drew back, his fingers still tangled in the ponytails that hung down her back, "You would say, Tei'rn, mo const'ra ho."

She leaned in, until her lips were a mere centimeters away from his, and his world was filled with the twin suns of her eyes as she repeated, "Tern, mo consta ho."

It wasn't exactly right, but it was perfect. He smiled before she claimed his lips with her own, turning his affectionate amusement into something deeper.

"Ai'ka…" He said thickly after a moment that seemed like an eternity. "I think perhaps that…it is unwise, for my wife to stand around in soaked clothing. I would not want her to catch cold."

Ayeka blushed rosily, but her smile was inviting. "I would listen to the advice of my husband. Help me with these fastenings, would you?"

They both grinned at each other, then laughed as he hastened to comply.

…

They stood in the place between, not speaking as the flickering of realities began again around them.

Kyokki laughed, "That was about enough of that, we must let our children have their privacy." She flopped down in midair, hugging herself with happiness.

Zeishon settled beside her, chuckling to himself as well as his dark blue tresses whipped around him. "So, what now, cousin?" He asked in his soft voice.

"That's more of something for you to think about than me." She ran her hands through her hair, "I go home, and live with my husband. And I will be as normal as I can be."

"And you finally told him?" Came a deeper voice, and Sonnar stepped into view. "Told that human of yours what you are?"

Kyokki laughed and lifted her foot to poke her serious cousin in the ribs with her toes. "I did. And 'that human' took it very well."

"He did seem rather…jaunty the past few days." Zeishon murmured.

"Proud of himself for snaring a goddess…after he got over the shock." Kyokki agreed with a fond smile. "He'll be impossible to live with for a while." She turned to Zeishon. "But you didn't say what you were going to do now. Are you going to stay on with the Galaxy Police?"

Zeishon looked away for a moment, his face thoughtful in the lights of flickering life that surrounded them. "No…I think I've had enough of mortal life," He said finally. "I will just fade from sight and go back to watching over my worlds." He shrugged his shoulders fretfully. "I don't know how you can stand to be so confined."

"Life doesn't last forever, cousin." Kyokki smiled sadly. "One day I will go my way again."

"Like a fire burning in the high-grass." Sonnar murmured. He stretched his massive arms, strong as the elements that he represented. "I can't say that all did not turn out well, better than I expected it to."

Kyokki looked at him. "I know you meant well when you did what you did on Seta'ka, and it wouldn't have been long before the planet destroyed itself anyways, but I cannot say I have quite forgiven you."

Sonnar looked a bit taken aback. "You never said…"

"No, because you can't change what happened. And I am happy that those two have found each other nonetheless." She stood from her perch in the air. "Now, I am ready to go home."

"Wait." Tsunami materialized out of the air. "I have only managed to break away for a moment." She spun happily, her robes twirling in the air. "Such happiness I never experienced before taking this form. I wanted to see you once more before I go back."

"Yes," Zeishon said. "It may be a while before we are together again." He smiled faintly. "Barring crisis, of course. Will you be staying on Jurai, then?" He asked the blue-tressed goddess.

"For a while." She walked up to the wind god and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Will you let Mihoshi remember you?" She asked, settling back down onto her heels.

Zeishon didn't smile. "I think I will be transferred somewhere far away. I will say goodbye."

"I'm glad, cousin." She told him as Zeishon faded from view, going back to real space and to do what he needed.

Then she turned to Kyokki and the two goddesses embraced.

"I will see you when you come back to Earth, if you come back. Yosho doesn't like to leave it, so I doubt we'll come to Jurai." Kyokki told her, smoothing her hair.

"At the very least, I will visit," Tsunami promised. "There may be something to hold me here, though."

"Oh?" Kyokki asked curiously.

Tsunami smiled, a little wickedly. "Something tall with long red hair and very pretty violet eyes. He seems quite taken with me."

Kyokki laughed. "How wonderful for you! I wish you luck. Bring him to visit us when you come." Then, with a final wave, she too faded away.

Tsunami looked over at Sonnar. "Are you still angry with me?"

He shook his head. "No, not anymore. I suppose I wasn't too angry to begin with, just annoyed."

"We couldn't have saved your priest, you know." She reached out and touched the broad earth-colored arm of her cousin.

"Yes, I must learn to bear Mev'ln's loss." Sonnar looked away from Tsunami's gently commiserating eyes. "Our fiery cousin urged me to go among mortals, but I am not prepared to do so again."

"She didn't know about…"

"No, and I ask that you do not tell her." Sonnar shrugged again, then looked at Tsunami and smiled bleakly. "Until we meet again, cousin." He leaned down and kissed her cheek then he was gone.

"Yes, cousin." She murmured sadly. "Goodbye." And she too returned to her own reality.

…

The midday sun shone down on the guard, and he raised a hand to shade his eyes from the glare. He judged the time from its position. It had been four hours since his partner ran off and left him with the job of guarding their guest. He didn't blame him too much. If he had been a few hundred years younger, and his wife hadn't been so good with a butcher knife, he would have found the young princess irresistible as well. As it was, he was feeling his years more than ever right at the moment.

"Youth is wasted on the young, you know."

"Indeed."

"That is quite true."

He shifted his position, depending on the strength of his staff key to take some of his weight. At least in another hour or so the trees would be blocking the sun again and he could take advantage of the shade. He was doubtful that he would have reason to leave this spot in quite a while.

As it was, he had already changed his position from right in front of the door to the other side of one of the guardians. He had had no idea that doors on Jurai were so thin. It would make him more cautious in the future when he was spending time with his wife. He had caught the words 'Really? That sensitive?' And then a burst of masculine and feminine laughter intermingling until the two voices trailed off into a purposeful silence. He had quickly moved away from the door at that point.

He supposed that he should have put a stop to this. The emperor would not be happy at all if he came to learn that Azaka had done nothing but guard his daughter's assignation with the stranger. But Azaka took orders from Misaki, who had told him that if Tei'rn were to acquire a 'lady-friend' that he should not interfere. She felt it would be good for him.

So Azaka had not weighed his options for very long on the walk over to the bathhouse before coming down on Misaki's side. Of course, by then he had no idea what he was walking into, and he feared Misaki's wrath much more than he did Emperor Azusa's.

He checked the sun again; then looked around the wooden guardian called Kamidake. The door remained firmly closed, and he had no intentions of listening at it to see what was going on. He could already hear a few muffled sounds that made his ears go red. He had taken to humming old Juraian folksongs to drown them out.

"They are certainly energetic." He sighed, leaning upon his staff once again and staring off into space.

"They are indeed." The guardian Kamidake agreed.

"Stamina worthy of the royal line," guardian Azaka chimed in.

Azaka sighed again. "I suppose it could be worse. At least it's not too hot."

"Yes," guardian Azaka said.

"It's such lovely spring-like weather." Guardian Kamidake agreed.

"Another beautiful day." Both Azakas intoned together.

Azaka turned his face to the sky, and smiled. "But it sounds like they're having a lot more fun than we are." He laughed and the two guardians joined in as their mirth rang out into the sky.

The End

Author's notes and acknowledgements:

Well, it's been a good run. I have enjoyed writing Tenchi fanfiction these, oh my, is it five years now? It may be longer. Who keeps track anyways. But Tenchi led me into my love of anime and all led me to meet all my friends in the fanficcing world, and I still am grateful for that. But this is my last Tenchi fanfic. Done. Over. Other fanfics, and new and original worlds await.

But before I sign off on this, I need to thank all my buddies who pre-read and gave me ideas, Jocko, my primary beta, Peorth, my beta beta, and everyone else I've persuaded to give me their opinion on ideas that I had. Thanks guys.

And thank you to all the readers who came back to read this final installment, and those who will read this for the first time when I post this.

See you in the next universe.

Kyokki.


End file.
